#yen deserved better | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lemonlover1110 · 2 years ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Toji Fushiguro is hired to kill a woman- An absurd amount of money for her head. But she's simply too beautiful for him to not have some fun first.

He forgets about his job until the tables are turned on him.

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex (f. and m. receiving), Spitting, Vaginal Fingering, Creampie, Attempted Murder, Toji is a hit man, Mentions of murder and a gun and knife

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji doesn’t question any of his jobs as long as the money he’s paid is good. That’s why he didn’t question why someone was willing to pay ten million yen for the head of a twenty-something year old woman. He doesn’t ask much details when he’s about to do a job, just the name and a picture of the person.

When Toji got your picture, he almost felt guilty for even looking at you without your permission. He had never seen someone so drop-dead gorgeous, and he felt tempted to decline the job, thinking that such pure blood couldn’t be on his hands. But he knew your looks have nothing to do with this. With the little information he got, he knew you were a sorcerer. He never got if you were part of a clan or not, or any actual reason for your death, but they wanted you gone.

Toji thinks with his dick a lot, but this wasn’t one of those instances. He felt bad, sure, but he wasn’t going to turn down that much money for a woman he had never met. So he made a plan, and now he sits at a bar, drinking water as he waits for you to step into the place. With some help he figured out what your weekly routine is. And on Fridays you decide to go out for a drink. So he patiently waits for you to enter the place.

Time feels so slow as he glances at the door, waiting for you to step into the place. It’s still quite early, but he’s been at the same spot for half an hour, not attempting to make conversation with anyone else. A couple of women have come up to him, trying to initiate something, but Toji shrugged them off. He’s only looking for one person, and none of those women are nearly as stunning as you are.

“Waiting for someone?” The bartender asks, and Toji hums in response. He doesn’t share any details though. There’s no need. Toji keeps looking at the door, and his eyes light up when the door opens and you walk through. He’s a minute closer to getting the money he was promised.

His eyes follow your body as you immediately approach a table, walking over to your friends. You wear a little black dress that hugs your body extremely well, it almost makes the man forget why he’s there. You simply look stunning, even better than the picture he was shown, which he didn’t think was possible. But he remembers why he’s here.

He didn’t expect you to meet up with your friends, so he has to slightly change his plans. He tears his eyes off you when you look back, he hadn’t noticed your friends had been looking at him and had begun to point at him. Great, now he just looks like a creep, however, he doesn’t worry too much about it. There’s no need for formalities, really. He could just get you alone, kill you, and bring your body to the person that hired him. That’s what he does every single time but tonight he doesn’t want to do it like that.

Someone so beautiful deserves a little bit more. It’s a horrible mindset, but Toji is a horrible person.

“Hey.” He hears, and he turns his head to look at you. You’re smiling at him, and he wonders what you’re going to say. You know he was staring at you, yet you don’t look like you’re about to call him out for it. Quite the opposite. “Is this seat taken?”

“No, go ahead.” His voice is stern as he speaks. You notice how he holds a glass of water, or perhaps it’s straight vodka. You’ll never know because you’ll never question it. He watches as you tell the bartender your drink of choice to start off the night. You look at the handsome man that’s next to you before confidently saying,

“My friends told me you were checking me out.” You tell him. Each year you get older and realize there’s no point in holding back. You don’t lose anything by telling him that you find him attractive. Worst he can do is reject you, “And I have to say, you’re very handsome.”

“Hmm… I am?” He raises a brow while he turns to look at you. He licks his lips, once again looking over you. He brings his glass up to his lips and takes a sip, which is when you figure out that it’s water since he had no reaction to the liquid. “What’s your name, darling?”

You tell him your first name, which further confirms he’s got the right woman. You bat your eyelashes at him, hoping he introduces himself without you having to ask. As your glass is placed in front of you, he says, “That’s a very beautiful name.”

“What’s your name?” You end up asking when he doesn’t introduce himself. You bring your drink up to your lips and begin to sip while you wait for the man to say something. He takes a long time to speak a word. He’s debating if he should use his real name. It wouldn’t be smart for him to do so, but in the end it won’t matter.

At the end of the night, you’ll be dead.

“Toji.” He answers. You smile at him as you think of what to say next. You really aren’t interested in a conversation, in fact, you only want one thing from him. Of course, you won’t immediately just ask him to leave the place to have sex, you’ll talk to him a bit more.

“I haven’t seen you around here before, Toji.” You say, and the way that his name rolls off your tongue has him hooked. He feels his face get warm, and he can only imagine his cheeks getting a pinkish color, so he turns his face away from you. The lighting of the place isn’t great, yet he’s scared that it’ll be noticeable in the low light.

“You come here a lot?” He asks, and you end up humming in response.

“Every Friday night. Just to unwind with friends after a long week.” You share. He didn’t know that detail. He doesn’t usually ask for details, mainly because that makes his victims too human. Toji will do anything for money and he doesn’t feel guilty. But having you tell him something as simple as that won’t make him feel his best about his job. “How about you? Why did you decide to come here?”

“I’m new to the area, and saw this place.” He shares.

You two begin to converse and find out about each other. You tell him miniscule things about yourself, while he does the same. Majority of the things that he tells you don’t seem genuine though. It’s believable enough, but it just doesn’t seem honest. Yet you don’t care.

You get lost in insignificant conversation so much so that you don’t feel two hours pass by. You’ve had a little too much to drink by then, and have gotten a bit too touchy with Toji. Your hands are on his arms, and you lightly slap it when he tells a joke that isn’t all that funny. He finds himself laughing as well.

“How about we…” You begin to whisper in his ear. Toji’s hands are on your waist, helping you maintain your balance as you stand. Instead of finishing your sentence, you begin to kiss Toji’s face. He’s forgetting about his task. Your lips finally press against his, and he allows himself to get lost in the soft skin. A complete stranger is kissing him, and his palms are getting unreasonably sweaty. Toji has had one night stands before– Too many to count, but he’s never felt like this while kissing them. Maybe it’s because he knows that after this, it’ll all be over.

He shouldn’t even be thinking about sleeping with you, but when you say, “Let’s go back to my apartment” when you pull away from his lips, his mind is hazy and he hums in response. Maybe it’s your cursed technique or something similar that has such an effect on him. But he has to remember what he was hired to do. He won’t let some momentarily feeling get in the way of his prize.

After closing your tab, the two of you begin to walk to your apartment. Your place is not too far away, it’s a five minute walk from the bar. Which he already knew. You happily talk to him, and from your speech he can tell that you’re sobering up, but you’re not planning to stay sober for too long.

You get to your place, and he walks in, unsure of where to go next. You walk past him and go to the kitchen to grab two glasses of wine and open a bottle. You don’t care to ask if he actually drinks. You’ll just pour two glasses, talk a bit more, and then have sex. At least that’s what you think will happen.

“Please, take a seat.” You tell him, and he awkwardly looks around before going to the couch and taking a seat. His eyes inspect the place, noticing how it’s a bit disorganized. Next to him is a pretty white dress that most likely was going to be your choice for the night. He notices how sheer it is and how small it looks, which makes him glad you chose the black dress. Had you worn that dress, he would’ve died on the spot. You walk up to him with two glasses filled to the brim, “Sorry for the mess. I wasn’t expecting any guests.”

“It’s fine.” He responds, taking the glass from your hands. You take a seat right on his lap, after all, the plans you have with him involve more than just sitting on his lap. There’s no point in holding back. He feels his face get warm, and he distracts himself by looking at the glass of wine. “Man, you’re really trying to get me drunk.”

“I did overdo it a bit.” You tell him, taking a sip from your glass. He puts his glass down on the end table, his hands focusing on roaming through your body. “Not much of a drinker, now?”

��Alcohol isn’t really my thing.” He comments, his fingertips feathering over your thighs before they go up to the hem of your dress. His fingers begin to trace lazy circles on your skin, completely forgetting what he’s here to do. You end up putting your glass on the coffee table, focusing completely on him.

“Hmm, so what’s your thing?” You say, lightly biting down your bottom lip.

“Pretty girls like you.” He responds, his lips placing a kiss on your jaw before his teeth begin to nibble on your earlobe. You smirk, your hands feeling the well built body that hides behind a thin black shirt. You get off his lap and get on your knees on the hardwood floor. God, he’d curse himself for being so dumb. He has a gun in his pants, and a pocketknife in his pocket. Yet he isn’t thinking about that when you’re undoing his belt and pulling down his pants.

Your eyes glance at the gun, but you don’t say anything about it, instead you smirk knowing that he hasn’t noticed the fact that you know. Your hand wraps around his cock and you slowly begin to pump his length. “I hope I’m special.”

“Oh, you are.” He answers before your tongue begins to swirl around the tip of his cock. He watches as you do so, biting his bottom lip. Your hand keeps stroking his dick while your tongue keeps licking the tip of his cock, until you finally wrap your mouth around his dick.

It’s too much for you to take it all, so you take as much as you can in your mouth, your hands moving the parts that you can’t fit inside. You bob your head slowly, your eyes looking up at Toji who is clearly enjoying this. His cheeks are pink while he bites down on his lip. It makes you wonder if he’s touch-deprived or if you’re just really good at this.

“Oh, fuck–” He ends up throwing his head back after awkwardly holding eye-contact with you for a couple of seconds. He’ll admit that you look better than ever while your mouth is wrapped around his cock, but looking at each other while he gets head is just awkward. Especially when he has very specific plans to kill you, and he won’t back down. Obviously, his plans have been pushed back. He’ll get his dick wet and then do it. As horrifying as it sounds.

You take your mouth off his cock, your tongue running down his shaft and going to his balls. Your mouth begins to suck on his balls while your hand pumps his cock. His eyes are rolling to the back of his head while you work your magic. Fuck, this isn’t even supposed to be happening. But it is and he’s so close to coming.

Your tongue licks up to his tip, and your mouth wraps around his cock again. Your eyes once again focus on his face, although it’s thrown back as he grunts. “S’ good. Love your mouth.”

His cock twitches and he releases in your mouth. So much cum fills up your mouth, and some of it dribbles down to your chin. You take your mouth off his cock and he finally looks at you. He brings his thumb down to your chin and picks up his cum, then brings it to your lips. He swipes his thumb on your tongue. His hand then goes under your chin and he turns your head. “You’re so beautiful.”

You get off the floor and grab his hand. You pull him up from the couch and begin to guide him to your bedroom. Your bedroom is even more disorganized than the living room, but he doesn’t notice because all that’s going through his mind is the fact he’s about to fuck you, and it feels like a dream.

Your hands go to your side and you pull down your zipper, beginning to take off your dress. He watches, his eyes lighting up as he sees that you’re only wearing panties. His hand goes to your back and he pulls you closer to him. His lips meet yours for a brief second before his lips go down, from your neck to your breasts. His lips wrap around your nipple and he sucks, while his hand plays with the other.

He detaches his mouth from your nipple and kisses his way to your other nipple before his lips wrap around your other nipple. You softly moan while he does so. When he unlatches, he picks you up and puts you down on the bed. He spreads your legs apart and pushes your panties to the side before he gets on his knees.

His tongue runs through your cunt before it focuses on flicking your clit. You softly moan while his fingers go up to your mouth. He shoves his fingers in your mouth, getting them wet with your saliva before he brings them down and runs them through your folds. He pushes his middle and ring finger inside of you and you loudly moan.

“Oh, Toji-” You shut your eyes as he curves his fingers just right. The pad of his fingers brush against your sweet spot repeatedly. His tongue works just right, and you bite down your bottom lip so you’re not so loud. The walls are thin, and the last thing you want is for the neighbors to hear this. “You’re doing such a good job.”

And his ears are happy with what you say and with the moans that leave your lips. Oh and his tongue is also happy because you taste so fucking good. He’s definitely happy he’s getting to do this. At this point he’s completely forgotten what he came here to do.

“Fuck– It’s so good!” You arch your back, feeling as your orgasm begins to build up. Your thighs begin to squeeze his head, and your mind begins to get cloudy. You definitely don’t regret bringing him over.

Toji’s mouth begins to suck on your clit as your orgasm gets closer and closer. It’s so fucking good for the both of you. You get louder and louder with every passing second, until your legs spasm, reaching your orgasm. You moan his name really loud, and it’s the sweetest melody that he’s ever come across.

He takes his fingers out and detaches himself from your clit, standing up. He begins to get undressed, taking off his shirt before his pants follow. He makes sure that weapons are hidden by clothes before he completely focuses on you. You truly look like a goddess as you lay down on the bed, and he’s mesmerized. He’s never seen someone so beautiful before.

“You’re so beautiful.” He comments stroking his cock before he runs the tip through your folds. His other hand goes to your lower back and he lifts your upper body. His lips meet yours, his tongue going inside your mouth and pressing against yours. He slowly pushes his cock inside of you, and you moan into his mouth.

His cock definitely feels bigger than it looks, and it feels so good. You pull away from the kiss, and he brings his lips together, gathering up saliva before he spits in your mouth. It’s so fucking nasty but you love it, swallowing it. “Oh you’re such a nasty bitch.”

“I am.” You answer. One arm is wrapped around his shoulders, while the other goes down, your hand playing with your clit. “Your dick’s so good.”

“Oh? Is it?” He questions. He picks up speed with every thrust, getting lost in your cunt. His lips meet yours again in a sloppy kiss, muffling any sounds from the both of you. This feels so fucking good, by this point he’s forgotten about the ten million yen prize. He doesn’t want to leave you after this. “You’ve got such a sweet little pussy.”

Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as you feel another orgasm approach. He just hits every spot and it makes your body feel so good. Every movement is enough to send you over the edge, and he’s relentless. You pull away from the kiss to moan, “Oh fuck! Toji!”

You reach your climax, your pussy feeling incredible around him. So tight and warm. He rapidly keeps thrusting in and out of you, chasing his release. He’s moaning your name, coming so close to finishing.

His thrusts get sloppy until he finally comes to a stop, filling you up with his cum. He shouldn’t have done that, but he doesn’t care. And neither do you. He pulls out and lays down beside you on the bed. Now would be the perfect time to grab a weapon and do the job.

But he isn’t thinking of that. He catches his breath and turns his face to look at you, admiring your beauty, “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You answer, smiling at him. He’s decided that he’ll push his plan to tomorrow morning.

The next morning Toji wakes up next to you and his mind is all over the place. He doesn’t exactly remember much. Maybe that you had sex a couple more times until you both passed out— That and that he pushed back his plan of killing you.

He’s been stalling his plan simply because you’ve captivated him, and he can’t afford that. Not with the amount of money that’s on the line. You seem to be sleeping peacefully next to him, which would allow him to grab a pillow and just do the job. But he doesn’t.

He gets off the bed, grabs his clothes and begins to look for the bathroom. Once he finds it, he uses the toilet. Once he’s done he looks over himself in the mirror. When did he become so pathetic for a woman? Last time that happened was too long ago. It’s just extremely disappointing that he pushed his plans back because he found the woman too beautiful. But for some reason so much weight has been lifted from him.

He notices the mouthwash on the sink and opens the bottle, pouring some on the cap and then bringing it up to his lips. While he rinses, there’s a knock on the door. “Uh… Give me a sec!”

But the door opens. His eyebrows furrow and he turns to look at you. You’re just wearing your panties, your hands behind your back as you sweetly smile, “Good morning, Toji!”

“Good morning.” He’s rather cold this morning. You take small steps to get closer to him.

“How’d you sleep?” You question.

“I’m still tired.” He confesses and you chuckle.

“You wouldn’t be so tired if you had drank the wine.” You tell him, and he finds himself confused.

“Does wine help you sleep or something?” He questions. When you’re close enough, your hands come to the front, but you’re not empty handed. Toji feels the barrel press against his abdomen, and that’s the weight he felt that had been lifted. He puts his hands up in the air.

“The great Toji Zenin was after me, I feel honored.” You begin, and Toji is bewildered. “The sorcerer killer… I want to know who hired you, but I also want to keep it a surprise.”

“You knew?” He asks the obvious, causing you to laugh.

“Of course I knew. I was surprised you didn’t do it faster though. But I’m glad. You were a good fuck.” You tell him, and he slowly blinks. Reality slowly settles. He has a gun pressed against his abdomen— His gun. He’ll most likely die, but he can’t begin to plead for his life because he can’t seem to find the will to live. There’s no point. He’s been outsmarted. “I’m glad you didn’t drink the wine either.”

“Not only beautiful, but also smart.” He’s actually blushing, and he can’t seem to care enough to try and turn his face to hide it from you.

“Any last words?”

“I think I’ve fallen in love.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #daddy toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji smut #toji zenin #fushiguro toji #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x y/n #jujutsu toji #toji fic #toji x you #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro smut #toji fanfic

3K notes · View notes

k-nayee · 2 months ago

Text

Live For Me Chainsaw Man

wc: 4.4k

Traveler M.List

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

The house is quiet. Too quiet.

It's the kind of silence that creeps under your skin, reminding you of what’s missing.

The walls still carry the warmth of your parents' presence, their voices echoing in your mind even after all these years.

Sometimes you swear you can hear them—soft murmurs, whispers telling you that not all demons are evil. That they can be good, kind even.

But you know better now.

Your parents had been wrong and they paid the price for it. They died because of that naïve belief. No—because of you.

That demon chose to hunt you that day. And yet your parents had thrown themselves in its path without hesitation, shielding you from the blow.

Your mother’s hand reaching for you, your father’s eyes full of fear and love as he shielded you with his body, the look on the devil's face as it tore through them without a second thought...

It's a sight that’s burned into your memory, a nightmare that replays itself whenever you close your eyes.

Days blur together now—one after the other, all the same. The same silence, the same emptiness, the same weight pressing down on your chest.

An exhausting feeling that never goes away. You can’t run from it, can’t escape it. So you stopped trying.

The only thing that keeps you going is the anger. The hatred that burns under your skin, keeping you alive when you’d rather be numb.

Your parents might have believed in peace but you don’t. Not anymore. Not after what you saw.

They were killed without mercy, and so in return, you’ve never show any mercy either.

Every time you hire a hunter to take down a devil you tell yourself it’s revenge. You do it in their name.

It doesn’t matter if the devil is dangerous or harmless. It doesn’t matter if it hasn’t even attacked anyone. They’re all the same to you.

Monsters.

Monsters that deserve to die—every last one of them.

There’s a small flicker of satisfaction every time you hear of another one taken down, but it’s fleeting. It’s not enough.

The anger never really goes away; it sits in your chest, gnawing at you.

Your parents wouldn’t approve. They’d be horrified if they knew. But they’re not here to stop you, nor were they the ones left behind to drown in this darkness.

The house you live in—their house, the monthly allowances, a future trust fund...all of it seems meaningless now.

The yen you’ll inherit can’t bring them back. It can't fill the hollow ache in your chest. No amount of money can replace the hole their deaths carved into your life.

Every day blends into the next, the routine of your life mechanical—wake up, eat, hire another hunter, wait.

You don’t know what keeps you going. Maybe it’s the promise of revenge or maybe it’s just habit.

Either way, you live in this quiet bitter limbo, waiting for something—anything—to make you feel alive again.

But nothing ever comes.

Until today.

It had started like any other—another walk home through the familiar streets, your mind numb and disconnected from the world around you.

You weren’t paying attention, not really. And then out of nowhere it happened:

A devil emerged from the shadows like some terrible nightmare come to life, its bloodlust fueled gaze on you.

It released a snarl that chilled your blood before lunging toward you. And as its grotesque form neared, claws outstretched—you weren’t afraid.

You didn’t scream. You didn’t run.

You just stood there.

Maybe it was fear or maybe a twisted part of you thought This is it. That the universe had finally decided to let you follow your parents.

After all, what was left for you here?

But then you heard it—the unmistakable roar of a chainsaw reviving to life cuts through the air.

Before you can even process what’s happening, a blur of movement flashes in front of you.

The devil screeches in pain, its body split open as blood sprays across the alley walls.

You blink, your heart skipping for the first time in what feels like years as you take in the sight before you.

A boy no older than you. He was scrappy-looking and wild with a wide sharp grin plastered across his face.

In his hands he held what looks to be a chainsaw—no not just a chainsaw, a creature. A devil. One that looks like a dog with a chainsaw blade sticking out of its head.

They move together in a seamless brutal dance as the boy tears through the devil with reckless abandon. It's messy, chaotic, but somehow it works.

You watch in awe as he makes quick work of the creature, the devil's body collapsing in a heap at your feet.

Blood splatters the ground and pool around your shoes, but you barely notice. Your eyes are on him.

The boy with the chainsaw-dog. He wipes his face with the back of his hand, panting heavily but still grinning like it’s just another day.

For a moment all you can do is stare. There’s something about him—about the way he fights, the way he carries himself.

It’s different. He’s different. And the creature at his side...a devil, fighting alongside him. Not against him, but with him.

The sight stirs something deep inside you, something you thought had been buried long ago. This...this is what your parents used to talk about, isn’t it?

Harmony between humans and devils. A partnership.

The boy looks at you still breathing hard, eyes bright with a kind of excitement that feels foreign to you.

"You alright?" his voice is rough like he hasn’t spoken much that day.

You don’t answer. You can’t. You’re too busy staring at him and the devil at his side.

He doesn’t seem to wait for your response. Without a second thought he bends down and grab something from the devil's corpse before turning away, muttering something about needing to collect his payment.

Then just like that, he disappears down the street, the strange dog-devil whirring quietly as it trots along beside him.

You’re left standing there alone in the alley, heartbeat racing as your mind raced with questions.

Who was he? What kind of person teams up with a devil? How can they fight together like that?

And why—why did seeing them, even for just a moment, make you feel...alive again?

It’s the first time in so long that your chest feels lighter, that your heart has awoken from its slumber.

The image of the boy and his devil replayed in your mind over and over.

They remind you of what your parents believed in, what they’d always talked about that you had never been able to see.

But now you have.

And suddenly you want to know more.

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

The days after that faithful encounter passed in a haze. You can’t stop thinking about him—the boy with the chainsaw-dog.

You don’t even know his name, but the image of him cutting through that devil has burned itself into your mind.

It’s like a puzzle you need to solve or a mystery that refuses to let you go. So you follow him.

It’s not hard to track him down. He’s not exactly subtle. You'd catch glimpses of him in the streets and alleys where devils lurk, always fighting, always surviving.

You'd trail him from the shadows, keeping your distance as you follow his path, watching from a distance as he hunts with that same reckless energy with his devil by his side.

He’s a enigma—this boy with the chainsaw devil. You wonder how someone like him can fight without fear, without the hatred that burns inside you.

There’s an almost carefree way he moves, like he’s fighting for something other than revenge or anger. It confuses you but at the same time draws you in.

After enough trailing and asking around, you figured out where he lived—a rundown shack on the edge of town.

It's barely standing, the roof is caving in at the corners while the door barely hangs on by a thread.

You stand there for a while, staring at the crumbling structure. Part of you wonders if you should just leave.

He doesn’t even know you. Why are you so obsessed with this boy?

But then there’s a stronger part of you that part refuses to let go, the part that hasn’t felt this kind of pull in years.

The next morning you find yourself packing a basket. You don’t know why you’re doing this.

Maybe it’s because he saved your life, or maybe it’s because he’s the first person in a long time who’s made you feel something.

Maybe it’s both.

With the basket in hand you make your way to the shack. This time you’re not hiding.

You walk up to the door with a racing heart and knock. It’s a soft, uncertain as though you’re not sure if the door will even hold up under your hand.

For a moment there’s no answer. Maybe he’s not here. Maybe you should turn around and—

The door creaks open and there he is: standing in the doorway staring at you with wide eyes, a confused expression etched on his face.

He looks just as scrappy as he did the night he saved you—even more so—as his mouth dropped slightly as if unsure what to say.

“Uh... can I help you?” he asks cautiously.

You give him a small nervous smile.

“I uh...my name is ____. I don't know if you recall, but you saved my life the other day,” you lift the basket. “Just wanted to give my thanks if you don't mind...”

His eyes flicker from your face to the basket and back again.

"....My name's Denji..." You can see the confusion deepening in his expression. “Excuse me, I'm sorry. But why are you doing this? I mean you don’t even know me.”

“Well...it’s not every day a cute boy saves me,” you say, watching as his eyes widen and face flush red almost instantly.

Denji stares at you, his mouth hanging open completely caught off guard. It’s like the words short-circuited his brain.

“W-what? Cute? Me?” He sounded like he can hardly believe it.

"Yeah with you, " you say with a teasing smile. You’d heard passing rumors about how girl-crazy he was, and it seems they weren’t wrong. He’s practically melting under your words.

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, his cheeks still burning. "But...w-why? Why are you doing this?"

You shrug, still smiling. "Why not?"

He hesitates. You can see the gears turning in his head, but eventually he steps aside and lets you in.

The inside of the shack is even more run-down than you imagined.

The walls are cracked, the roof looks like it’s barely holding on, and the floor is littered with old newspapers and empty cans.

Denji watches you nervously, clearly embarrassed by the state of things.

"It’s uh... not much but..." he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to explain away the mess.

"It’s fine," you set the basket down on the floor. You can feel Pochita’s wary gaze from the corner, his little chainsaw head twitching slightly as he watches your every move.

Denji notices too and he gives the devil a gentle nudge with his foot. "Relax, Pochita. She’s cool."

You kneel down, ignoring the dust and dirt as you begin unpacking the basket. It’s nothing fancy—just some sandwiches, meats, fruit, and a couple of blankets to sit on.

The blonde shuffles over and sits down across from you.

“I mean... thanks,” he mumbles, glancing at the food. “But you really didn’t have to. I’m...I don’t got much to offer y’know?”

You wave off his concerns with a smile. “It’s fine. I just wanted to say thank you.”

You fill in the silence as you continue to unpack, talking about whatever comes to mind—how the weather’s been weird lately, the news about devils in the city, little things to keep the conversation going.

Denji responds here and there, mostly with short answers, his eyes flicking between you and the food in front of him.

And then he starts to eat.

He tears into the food with a hunger that makes you realize just how little he must be getting by on.

You watch him without touching the food yourself, simply letting him eat as much as he needs.

You wonder how long he’s been living like this—surviving off scraps, fighting devils just to make it through another day.

The two of you talk a little more as the afternoon sun starts to fade into evening. The conversation is light—nothing deep, just small talk to fill the space.

Realizing how late it was getting, you begin to start packing up the empty containers.

Denji watches you, his mouth still full of food, looking content for once. Just as you reach the door, he suddenly speaks up.

“Wait...You didn’t eat anything.” He frowns, looking between you and the now-empty basket. “You brought all that and didn’t eat?”

You turn back to him with a casual shrug. “I wasn’t hungry.”

Denji stares at you, his expression unreadable for a moment.

His eyes flick to the pile of folded blankets and leftover food you’ve intentionally left behind. You’d brought far more than one person could eat in a single sitting.

Before he can ask any more questions you wave goodbye and walk out the door.

He watches you go, dumbfounded, the blush still lingering on his cheeks.

Two days later, you find yourself standing outside the shack again with a basket in hand just like before.

And just like before, Denji answers the door with that same surprised expression. You don’t even need to ask this time—he steps aside without a word to let you in.

It becomes a routine after that—bringing him food, sitting together in the dim light of his shack, making small talk while he devours everything you bring.

Each visit is the same but somehow different. The awkwardness starts to fade, replaced by a quiet comfort.

Sometimes you don’t even talk—you just sit there, watching the sunset through the cracks in the walls while Denji eats beside you in contented silence.

And each time you visit you take something back with you—a pile of dirty clothes or a blanket—and return it the next time, freshly cleaned and mended, smelling faintly of the detergent your mother used to use.

Denji never asks why you keep coming back. Maybe he doesn’t want to know or maybe he’s just grateful for the company.

Pochita, however, is still slow to warm up to you. He keeps his distance, his distrustful gaze following you whenever you’re near.

But you don’t mind. You smile at him anyway, offering him bits of food now and then in hopes that one day he’ll stop seeing you as a threat.

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

It’s a bright, sunny afternoon when you and Denji find yourselves sitting in the quiet meadow where he often brings Pochita.

This place is different from the shabby shack—more open and peaceful, like a brief escape from the world you’ve both grown so used to.

You sit with your legs crossed, hands resting lightly in your lap as you gaze out over the field while Denji’s lying back on the grass basking in the sunlight.

Pochita sits nearby, eyes closed as if he too is enjoying the day.

For a long time there’s nothing but quiet. It’s a comfortable silence, the kind that feels natural after so many weeks of your growing routine together.

But something in you has been building, words you’ve been holding back, unsure of how to say them.

Today feels like the day to finally let them out.

“...I’ve never really told you about my parents...have I?” When you finally speak, your voice is barely above a whisper.

Denji opens one eye lazily, looking at you. “Not really. I mean, it’s not like we talk about stuff like that.”

You nod as your gaze drop to Pochita. The sight of him reminds you so much of what your parents used to believe in—the harmony they talked about humans and devils.

You’ve never had the chance to tell anyone this part of you. Until now.

“My parents,” you swallow the lump in your throat, “they believed in peace between humans and devils. They always talked about how there could be a world where we coexisted, how not all devils were evil and that some were good—harmless, even. I didn’t really believe them. And after they died... I hated them even more.”

Denji is sitting up now, his eyes widen a little as he listens.

“They died protecting me,” your voice trembled. “That devil was coming for me and they...they just stepped in without a second thought. After that, I couldn’t see devils as anything but monsters.”

Your fists clench in your lap as you stared hard at the ground.

Looking back up, you meet Pochita’s gaze. “I thought killing every devil I could was the only way to make it right. Avenging them by making every last one suffer.”

Pochita tilts his head slightly. The wariness is still there, but something in his gaze softens.

"But then I saw you two. You and Denji," you continue. "And for the first time I didn’t feel that hatred. I saw something different. I saw what my parents believed in—the kind of bond between human and devil they always talked about."

Your hands tremble slightly as you bow your head deeply toward the chainsaw devil, eyes focused on the grass at your feet. "I hated you. All of you. I wanted to destroy everything you were. But I was wrong. I’m sorry."

The meadow falls into a thick silence, your words hanging heavy in the air. For a long moment nothing happens.

You keep your head bowed, waiting, not sure what kind of response—if any—you’ll get.

Then something brushes against your cheek, warm and gentle. You look up to see Pochita standing right in front of you.

His big round eyes meet yours, and with a soft nudge he presses his little body against your face, his chainsaw blade awkwardly resting on your shoulder.

Then, before you can react, he gives you a quick wet lick on your cheek like a dog offering a kiss.

It’s the first time Pochita’s shown you any affection.

A shaky breath escapes you as you reach out tentatively, your hand hovering over Pochita’s head for a moment before you gently rest it on him.

He doesn’t pull away. Instead he leans into your touch.

Denji, who’s been watching the whole exchange, looks completely baffled.

He’s blushing, his face tinged pink as he scratches the back of his head. “Whoa...Pochita's never done that before. He usually hates everyone but me.”

You manage a shaky laugh, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I guess he forgives me.”

He chuckles at that, a strange tenderness in his eyes as he watches the interaction

Meeting his gaze, the lightness of the moment fades, and the weight of what you need to say next settles over you.

"Denji..." Your voice shakes causing his expression to immediately change, his eyes narrowing slightly with concern. "I need to tell you why I’ve been coming to you."

Full attention gathered, you swallow hard, forcing the words out before you lose your nerve. "I want you to kill me."

Denji’s reaction is instant. His eyes widen in shock, whole body going rigid as he stares at you.

"What?!" His voice cracks with disbelief. "No way! What the hell are you talking about?!"

Even Pochita seemed confused by your words, his little body pressing close to your side in concern.

You don’t look at them. You can’t. The knot in your throat tightens and you feel your hands start to tremble, but you push forward. “The day I saw you two—when you saved me—it was the first time I felt anything in a long time. I watched you fight, saw the way you and Pochita worked together...and I decided then that if I was going to die it had to be by your hands. You two represent the peace my parents always believed in.”

Denji looks like he’s been slapped, his face pale as he tries to make sense of your words. "I...no. No way. I’m not doing that! Why would you even—"

"Please." You feel the tears welling up in your eyes. "I have nothing left. But you...you’re different. You have something good inside you. If anyone should end my life it should be you."

Your hands tremble as you reach into your backpack and pull out the documents that you’ve carried with you—the deed to your house, your bank information, anything of value you could think of.

Your tears blur your vision as you lay it all out in front of him, desperation clawing at your throat. “It’s all yours. The money, the house, everything. Just...just use Pochita and end it for me.”

Denji stares at the papers in disbelief, his gaze flick back to you as if he’s trying to figure out if this is some kind of sick joke.

But when he sees the tears streaming down your face, the way you’re practically begging him, he realizes that you’re serious.

"You’re not dying," he says firmly, his voice almost angry now. "I’m not killing you and neither is Pochita."

You lower yourself, your body shaking as sobs wrack your chest. Head bowed, your hands are clasped together in a silent plea. "Please Denji..."

You feel completely vulnerable, broken as if your entire being is unraveling in front of them.

Before you can beg any more you feel a hand on your head.

You freeze, looking up through tear-blurred vision to see Denji standing over you. His face was soft, gentle in a way you’ve never seen before.

His hand is warm against your scalp and his expression is filled with something that makes your chest tighten.

“No amount of money will make up for your life,” he says quietly. “Your parents wouldn’t want this. They’d want you to live. I mean...that’s what parents want isn’t it?”

You feel his hand shift slightly, his thumb brushing lightly against your hair.

He hesitates, his face reddening. And then, in a voice so unsure it barely makes it past a whisper, he adds. “And if you can’t live for them then...”

You watch him closely as he struggles to get the words out, the flush in his cheeks deepening.

“...then live for me.”

His words hang in the air between you and for a second neither of you move.

He's furiously blushing as if realizing just how intense that sounds, looking anywhere but at you. “I mean...you’ve kinda already been livin’ for me haven’t you?”

You stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“What?” is all you could manage. But Denji doesn’t stop, his words comes out in a ramble.

“You’ve been cooking for me, doing my laundry, fixing my clothes...” His voice is rushed like he’s trying to make sense of it all as he goes. “You even took care of me that time I got sick. And— and Pochita,” he adds quickly. “You’ve been lookin’ after him too even when he used to growl at you all the time. It’s like...you’ve been doing all this stuff for me without even realizing it.”

You shake your head in denial, your pulse racing as his words sink in. “No that’s not...” You trail off, your mind scrambling for something—anything—to explain away his point.

But every example he gave was true. You had been doing all those things for him.

Your face flushes with warmth and the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. “I-if anything I was just doing what my mom did for my dad...like a wife to her...”

The moment those words leave your lips both of you freeze.

Your heart stops and you feel the weight of what you’ve just said slam into you like a train.

Wife?

The silence stretches out heavy as the realization of what you’ve just said crashes over both of you.

Your breath catches in your throat and you can’t bring yourself to look at Denji.

“W-Wife?!” He exclaims, eyes growing wide in disbelief and something that looks suspiciously like pure joy. He clutches his chest dramatically like he’s just been struck by lightning.

“N-no I didn't mean it lik—!” you start to protest, but the words die on your tongue as you realize what you’ve just admitted.

The domestic routine you’ve fallen into—the cooking, the cleaning, the way you’ve tended to him—it all fits, and you can’t deny it.

You have been acting like his wife.

Your face feels like it’s on fire now as the embarrassment overwhelms you. You shake your head again, trying desperately to explain yourself.

But Denji is oblivious to your inner turmoil. He’s too busy reveling in the idea with a giddy sort of excitement.

“I’ve got a wife,” he mutters to himself as if testing the words out loud. Then he glances back at you, his smile growing even wider. “I’ve got a wife!”

You groan, burying your face in your hands as the full weight of the situation sinks in. You hadn’t meant to say it like that. You hadn’t meant to imply—Oh, God.

Peeking out from behind your hands you can’t help but let out a shaky laugh.

The sheer ridiculousness of the situation starts to break through your embarrassment, and the sight of Denji nearly floating off the ground in joy is so over-the-top it’s almost funny.

Denji looks at you, his grin widening as he hears your laughter. “Well I’m not complainin’.”

You roll your eyes, the awkward tension between you beginning to fade to instead be replaced by something lighter.

The sun is starting to set, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you can breathe easily.

You glance over at Denji who’s still smiling like he’s won the lottery. It’s not the future you ever imagined for yourself, but somehow it feels...right.

Maybe this is what living really means. Maybe this is what your parents would have wanted for you after all—a reason to keep going, a reason to live.

Maybe Denji and Pochita can be that reason.

Denji catches your eye and grins, his face still flushed but full of hope. “Guess we’re stuck with each other huh?”

“Yeah,” you say with a soft laugh. “I guess we are...husband.”

Denji collapsed in happiness this time.

#knayee traveler #csm denji #csm denji x reader #denji x reader #chainsaw man denji #denji #pochita #denji hayakawa #denji hayakawa x reader #csm x reader #csm #reader #x reader #fem reader #reader insert #female reader

176 notes · View notes

hauntedhokage · 5 months ago

Text

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

Satoru Gojo/F!Reader

you should know better than to make a deal with Mei Mei, because everything comes at a price.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: drugging (aphrodisiac use), manipulation, non-consensual photos and recording, non-sexual slapping, uneven power dynamics, canon typical Mei Mei behavior, unprotected sex, breeding, yan!gojo

notes: some parts of this are intentionally a bit exaggerated because Gojo is a showman, if nothing else. This was also requested in uh....march so dear anon if you're still here I love you and I'm sorry.

There is always a price. Even in the jujutsu world, nothing just happened because of merit. It was all about who you knew and what you could give them in return for helping you out. Never simply receiving because you worked hard and earned it.

Which is why you knew paying off Mei Mei to support your promotion to grade one was going to end badly. But she was your only in to get the promotion you knew you deserved quickly. Gojo had been an option, but his price was “be a good girl for twenty-four hours” and that would cost you way more than Mei Mei’s negotiated price of five hundred thousand yen just to consider putting you up for promotion. The higher ups hated Gojo anyway, your paperwork would just get “lost” and then you’d have to resubmit multiple times, and Gojo resubmitting paperwork would come at a cost that grew steeper with every re-submission. The cost of doing business with him.

But that came at the price of Mei Mei not being able to supervise your missions that would fall under consideration, the ultimate price being that your final mission for consideration would be performed with Satoru Gojo at your side - and he looked way too happy to be sitting next to you in the car.

“Ijichi, there was nobody else?”

“You ask that as if I make the assignments,” the supervisor retorts, and you sit back in your seat as he sighs. “You’ll live. We always persevere.”

“I am right here, y’know,” Gojo interjects, and you sigh as you lean into the door when he scoots closer. “It’ll be like I’m not even there.”

“Impossible,” you mumble, grateful that the car has slowed to a stop meaning you can get out before Gojo is pressed into your side. Personal space didn’t exist for you when he was around, that’s why you did your best to avoid him.

Like he’s not even there, he says.

But he certainly enjoyed standing right next to you as you walked through the closed down hotel in search of the curse. His presence was unsettling for a multitude of reasons, the biggest one being that you didn’t like how he looked at you. Always with a stupid little smirk on his face, like he knew something you didn’t, and then there was the fact that he always had something to say about your appearance. New haircut, wearing your jacket a certain way, he even clocked the one time you smelled like someone else’s cologne. You weren’t bold enough to assume that he wanted anything more than to say he’d fucked you, but the way he just kept trying after the first rejection was creepy. But he was Satoru Gojo - the strongest sorcerer - despite any complaints about his conduct, the higher ups wouldn’t be able to actually do anything. The perk of being Satoru Gojo, and the true downside to hating him.

“Maybe the windows were mistaken?” you consider, poking your head into another open door and seeing nothing of interest. “I can’t sense any cursed energy besides ours. If this truly was a grade one or higher, we’d have felt it by now.”

“I’m not here, so you should feel it.”

“Are you telling me that you sense something I don’t?” His six eyes technique was annoying, he was annoying, so you keep walking even when he stops to go into a different open room. Maybe without him hovering your senses would be cleared enough to tell what he wasn’t telling you about. You just hoped you found it soon, because searching a hotel top to bottom with Gojo over your shoulder was not how you wanted to spend a Friday night. Maybe you’d call Nanami, see if he was going to leave that office building and at least get a drink? Or go to Yaga and see if there was any way you could get sent overseas to keep an ocean between you and Gojo at all times?

You hear movement behind you but pay it no mind, knowing that it was just Gojo pretending to not be near you. The cursed energy was the same, no residuals to be found, so you were going to let your guard stay dropped until you had a true reason to be on guard. Creaks in the floorboards of an old hotel wasn’t reason enough to stress yourself out.

A rag covering your mouth while an arm snakes around your torso to pull you against a chest and back through a doorway was, however, cause for great distress. This wasn’t a curse attacking you, even high grade curses weren’t smart enough to stage an attack like this - this was Gojo. And he’s too strong for you to truly be able to fight back, the best you can do is kick and flail and hope that his infinity wouldn’t block it given your close proximity to him. Screaming was pointless, since sound wouldn’t escape the veil, but you do manage to wiggle free just as he kicks the door shut.

The room is a bit blurry, your body feels warm and fuzzy when it certainly should not be, and every time you inhale you’re getting hints of pomegranate - not normal considering everywhere else in the hotel smelled like dust covered up with lemon cleaning solution. You have to get away from him, but there’s only one exit and he’s blocking it.

“Well damn. It’s supposed to make you more receptive, guess I didn’t use enough,” he mumbles, tossing the rag to the side as you back away from him. “Or maybe there’s a delay? I really should have read the instructions closer.”

“W-what the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“To start, this hard on. I get like this whenever you’re around, y'know.” And he’s dropping his pants easily, exposing his lower half while he steps closer to you. “You’re just so cute. Even cuter when you make those angry faces at me, like I don’t know how badly you want me, too.” “You’re delusional.”

“And you’re dripping wet, aren’t you? Maybe it is working? Or do you just want me that badly?”

He��s wrong. You know he’s wrong because you did not have any desire for him in the slightest. Satoru Gojo was an annoyance who gave you the creeps, not someone you were attracted to at all. The bastard drugged you, after all, that’s why you had this reaction.

“Why are you doing this?”

“You want that promotion, right?” His hand is stroking the bulge in his briefs, and your eyes struggle to stay focused on his as he smirks at you. “This is how you’ll get it. I was a little hurt that you didn’t ask me to put your name forward, though, I had our day all planned out.”

“That’s why I didn't ask you. Mei only wanted money, the lesser evil.”

“And isn’t it funny that paying Mei is how we ended up here?” And he’s got you boxed against the wall, long fingers carefully unbuttoning your jacket as he watches you process the implication of that statement. “Five million is a pretty steep price to take on such a bother that’s supervising an exorcism, but alone time with a sweet little thing like you is pretty priceless.”

And your jacket falls to the floor, your blouse coming undone shortly after while you stand frozen in place. Mei Mei sold you to the highest bidder, knowing damn well you paid her to get out of possibly needing to fuck Gojo to get promoted. Five million. What’s more concerning is that you’re sure Gojo would’ve paid more for this opportunity to get you alone on a mission with a veil separating you from society and Ijichi as the Supervisory Assistant - someone who wouldn’t dare intervene in a mission Gojo was on unless the man himself instructed it. The perfect plan.

“Don’t think you can get all frigid on me, don’t you want to be a grade one sorcerer?”

“You know I do.”

“Then you’d better show me how much.” A firm hand on your shoulder has you sliding down the wall to rest on your knees, nodding at his instruction to be cute about it and pressing your cheek to his covered cock. His phone is pointed down at you, pictures taken before you could even consider slapping it away, but you can only grin and bear it as you nuzzle against his crotch. “You want to suck my cock, don’t you? Wanna show me how badly you want to get promoted?”

“Please,” you whisper, kissing along the bulge until you get to the waistband. Your fingers hook into the elastic, but you wait for Gojo’s nod before starting to pull the fabric down. “But can you not record this?”

“Honey, I need this so we can both remember that even when you’re being mean, you want me. That deep down, for all your posturing, you’re just as eager to take my cock as any random woman off the streets in Tokyo.”

He’s such a bastard. You’d make this the worst blowjob of his life if he wasn’t your only hope of getting promoted, but you can only sigh in resignation. You weren’t getting what you wanted until he was satisfied, but you didn’t know what would truly satisfy him. He paid five million for this opportunity, what more would he spend to get more from you? Or what “tragic accident” could occur should you choose to be noncompliant? A promotion meant nothing if you weren’t alive to use it.

“Now be good and look cute while you suck me off, don’t want to have to tell the higher ups you can’t take instruction.

Just don’t bite him, you have to tell yourself as he gently taps your cheek with his cock. He’d probably like it, anyway, which wouldn’t be any kind of fun for you.

Before he can make any kind of request, you gently take the base of his cock in your hand while sucking the tip into your mouth. The taste of his pre on your tongue makes you want to throw up, but you maintain your composure as you take more of him into your mouth. His hand around your wrist pulls your hand from his length, holding it tightly as his other hand settles atop your head, his phone tossed to the side hopefully for the rest of the Awanight. He says something about testing your endurance just before he pushes his length further into your mouth. A sharp thrust makes you choke, but he gives no reprieve - instead warning you that you’d need to sharpen up that performance if you ever wanted to become a grade one sorcerer and reminding you that this was all so you could get a promotion.

“Oh, you recovered quickly,” he observes aloud, gently tugging on a couple strands of hair while continuing to keep you still. “Has this pretty mouth been used by someone else? Not like it matters, I’ll ruin you for anyone else.”

Fuck him and his confidence, honestly. He’s just rich and untouchable, nothing special. Fucking guy.

Breathing is your only priority since he’d taken his pleasure into his own hands - that and not biting him or throwing up. Shit, was it hot in here now? Why was it so warm?

It’s supposed to make you more receptive, he’d said, the words bouncing in your head as you feel yourself clench around nothing. The drugs were truly kicking in; your greatest fear of the night being realized in knowing that he’d get your skirt off and realize that you were, in fact, dripping wet. Technically because of him, the artificial assistance simply a footnote in the grander scheme of his memories of the event.

The way he fucks into your mouth should not make you as wet as you are. But it does, your thighs rubbing together in search of friction you wouldn’t get until he was satisfied with intruding your throat, and you know he’s going to be thrilled when he gets you on that bed to finally get to the main event.

“Oh, are you ready for me?” he asks, and you curse his damn six eyes technique because he truly missed nothing, but you know better than to lie to him if he had all the control in this situation. It takes all of your strength to nod against around his cock, pulling back to confirm his statement and ask him to fuck you. Playing into his game would make this go faster, and you could go home and scrub your skin while waiting for the results of your promotion mission.

He’s lifting you effortlessly, carefully dropping you onto the bed and pouncing almost instantly. His fingers play with your soaked cunt for only a few seconds before he’s lining himself up, stretching you out with his thick cock with little regard for your comfort as the recipient.

“Oh, you feel like heaven, just like I thought you would.” His praise comes out half a whine, and you feel nauseous at just how much pleasure he’s getting from simply pushing into you. Even more nauseous at how eagerly your body allowed the intrusion. “Maybe you’ve got potential to help me breed more little Gojos. Being the only one is a bit lonely, y’know.”

“That’s not part of the deal, Go-fuck!” A slap to your cheek has you stopping, just as he forces the rest of his length in to bottom out, leaving you winded and in different types of pain.

“You should really use my first name. I think we’re well past formalities and all that cold indifference you tried to maintain.” And he’s setting a brutal pace, leaving you no time to adjust to how he was stretching you out. “C’mon, say it for me. Nice and sweet, now.”

You don’t want to give him the satisfaction, but you also don’t want him to hit you again. This was all about control, a game you had no hope of winning because Gojo was stronger with or without the aphrodisiac, but saying his name was conceding your defeat.

As if you hadn’t lost the second you’d set foot in this hotel.

And it slips out when his fingers pinch your clit, a truly pathetic whine of “S-Satrou,” pushing past your lips only to be swallowed by his delighted groan and his mouth covering yours. He would be getting everything he wanted, and your nausea only intensifies before it’s pushed down by the pleasure you begin to feel as he pushes your legs back while praising how good and tight you felt and how he hoped to break your pussy so only he could have it for the rest of your life. This fucking aphrodisiac would make sure of it, and you know he’d keep dosing you to keep you compliant with what he wanted. Satoru Gojo didn’t take no for an answer.

His pace becomes unbearably slow, you’re not sure if it’s frustrating because of the need bubbling in your core from the aphrodisiac or the fact that you just wanted this to end. Your attempt at meeting his thrusts is met with a shake of his head and a whispered request that you let him take care of you, his words heavy with an intimacy that you didn’t want to have directed at you and hate that you had any reaction to it. To keep you from moving, his large hands grip your thighs to hold them back - also providing him an angle to allow for his thrusts to reach deeper inside your already tormented cunt. The groan that leaves him is almost primal, eyes darkening as he leans in again and forces your legs to your chest.

“I’m gonna fill you,” he whispers, sending a chill down your spine. “Are you ready?”

You shake your head, knowing you weren’t getting any semblance of a choice but hoping he’d maybe pull out. You also had to hope that Shoko wasn’t in on this, too. Because she would be able to swap anything you might request out for a placebo if Gojo told her to. Bastard had it all mapped out, you were sure.

“Satoru, please, you can’t-”

You’re cut off by his groan, your cunt being flooded by the sheer amount of his cum that makes your body feel impossibly hotter while he tilts your body back more, tears rolling down your cheeks that have him grinning before resting his head on the pillow against yours. And you lie there with your thighs pushed back and his hands holding you in place, his breathing heavy and hot against your ear. His hips pressed flush against yours, every other moment pulling back a bit only to push himself back in, a pleasured sigh leaving him every so often and fanning your cheek with his hot breath.

“You did so well. So good for me, darling,” he purrs into your ear, carefully nipping at your lobe before trailing a line of kisses down your neck. “Ijichi is bound to start getting suspicious, so I can’t keep you here all night. But let's get dinner and drinks after we file your report, then you can come to my place and we’ll continue this assessment of your skills so I can comfortably approve your promotion.”

He knows what he’s doing. With your limbs easily pinned down, his cock still snugly plugged in your cunt, you couldn’t go anywhere unless he allowed it - and he wouldn’t allow it until he got the answer he wanted. The answer you desperately didn’t want to give because you wanted to be anywhere but by his side. But you nod anyway, teary eyes meeting his hopeful gaze as you whisper, “I’d really like that, Satoru.”

“I knew you would. Gotta thank Mei for giving me a pretty little girlfriend.”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader smut #jjk smut #gojo smut #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x y/n #jjk gojo #tw.dubcon

205 notes · View notes

depravitycentral · 1 year ago

Text

Enji Todoroki General Yandere Profile

Yandere! Enji Todoroki x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, power imbalances, financial trapping, mentions of physical/domestic abuse, mentions of non-con, sexist undertones, Enji wants you to be his cute little housewife, mentions of breeding/pregnancy, a few mentions of making sure you eat enough/food, Enji is patronizing whoo boy, he makes you share a toothbrush and yes he's weird about it, this is set in a divergent timeline where Enji and Rei are formally divorced and his relationship with his family is loose and not super tight, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 11K

DARLING PROFILE:

Kind

Enji is, simply, harsh.

His quirk, his mannerisms, his attitude, his everything, really, is a bit rough around the edges, forming a man with only enough self control to get what he wants. He’s lived his whole life bitterly, constantly jealous, constantly wanting, willing to throw everything away in order to achieve his goals.

And once everything starts caving in around him, his family and career both taking unexpected turns, Enji finds himself so, so painfully alone. He doesn’t pretend to delude himself into thinking he’s not deserving of his fate, but this places him into a position where he shoulders the guilt while desperately trying to find any outlet to forget it.

And this is where a darling who is kind comes into play – he needs someone who won’t judge him for his past. He needs someone who doesn’t treat him like scum, who is still polite and empathetic to him and his emotions. A darling who is able to consistently praise him will have him smitten quickly, growing emotionally dependent on hearing their sweet words in order to function, in order to not let the depression and stress get the better of him.

And even once his obsession has formed and he’s deep in the depth of his infatuation, a darling who is just too kind to kick him to the curbside is absolutely essential for him – they must be doting and caring, helping rebuild his shattered confidence and psyche, and with every compliment they dish out, Enji vows that he’ll return the sentiment tenfold, in his own way of course.

(This means buying his darling millions of yen worth of their favorite things, all kinds of wonderful gifts that he hopes will sway them in his favor, that will get them drooling over him and all that he can provide for them.)

Hardworking

Although he’s in a mental state that leaves him much more susceptible to finding a partner once he divorces Rei, Enji is still a picky man. He won’t fall for just anyone – no, they must fit his standard, be acceptable and meet the rather long and detailed checklist he has for those he considers as potential romantic partners.

And near the top of this list is determination. He’s a man motivated by his own goals and is willing to stop at nothing to achieve them – and so, a darling that can at least somewhat match this aspect of his personality is critical.

He has no patience for a darling that gives up easily; he wants someone that’s willing to put in the effort to see it pay off, someone who understands the concept of self-discipline and holding yourself to certain moral standards.

He finds it wildly attractive when someone has strong character, and his interest would immediately be piqued with a darling who brings an attitude of perseverance and hard work into every aspect of their life, be it work, their hobbies, their relationship, and everything in between.

He wants someone who is perhaps not quite as stubborn as him, but is still serious in their goals.

(He hopes that one day, making him happy and pleasing him will be one of these goals – just as pleasing his darling is one of his own. And he’s more than happyto please them in whatever way they so desire. More than happy.)

Motherly

Because he views his darling as the perfect wife, his darling absolutely must possess at least somewhat of a motherly air about them. He likes the idea of having a nurturing partner, if only because he finds it endearing when they care for others.

As a hero he shares this sentiment, and although it may sometimes be overshadowed by his need to become the best, deep down inside he does very much wish to help others – his methodology is just a little more violent, a little more overt.

His darling, by contrast, should prefer a methodology that’s much gentler, something that focuses more on making others feel safe and heard and cared for.

Besides, Enji very much desires to have children with his darling; to build a second family, one that he’ll care for and nourish much better than his first. And so, if his darling is to be a good mother, they must embody these traits.

Besides, although he doesn’t fall for his darling because of his fantasies of making them a mother, once the feelings are formed these daydreams only further his feelings, deepening his obsession because oh, he’d give absolutely anything to see them pregnant with his child, carrying his seed, creating something that symbolizes the love and dedication between them.

And so, his darling needs to be someone who naturally takes care of others – and in return, Enji will take care of them. Just how it should be.

Pushover

This trait is a bit less crucial compared to the others, but it’s still most definitely a positive from Enji’s perspective.

Of course he likes a darling who has strong opinions and stands up for them, but he loves a darling that will let him guide them through any hard decisions, or really any decisions at all.

Although he’s not as outright controlling with his darling, he still very much feels that he wears the pants in the ‘relationship’, and thus he is the one calling the shots.

A darling who is happy to let him take over their life like this is a massive help to him – he doesn’t have to fight for control, nor does he have to argue with them about why certain decisions really should be made by him as the more dominant partner, as the one who knows more about the world, as the man. It’s an outdated view and it’s one that he doesn’t really want to admit out loud, but he enjoys the idea of a partner who will revere him and allow him full control.

He wants to be loved and cherished, and in return for a love like this, he’ll do his best to provide for and take care of his darling in every way he possibly can – so really, if his darling knows what’s best for them, they’ll step back and let him make all the tough decisions.

They’ll nod and smile and agree with whatever he chooses, pressing a kiss against his cheek and telling him how much they trust him, how they know he’d never hurt them, how he only wants what’s best for them.

Just the thought makes something warm swell in his stomach, the level of trust making him feel wanted, needed, a concept so foreign that it almost feels wrong. But oh, how he likes it.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Controlling

But in a very, very strange way – a lot of what fuels Enji’s obsession is this desperate, innate need to right his wrongs. He’s very, very aware of how thoroughly he ruined his family, how horribly he treated Rei, how he was a poor excuse of a father and husband, and he sees his love with you as almost being his second try. With you, he can do all the things he should have done with Rei and his children – he should have been sweet and loving, a present father that cared about each of his children equally. He should have been a doting husband, spoiling his wife and making her feel loved and desired.

But he didn’t, and although Rei has long since divorced him, Enji finds himself feeling lonely, incomplete, restless to try again, to properly provide for a sweet little thing he can call his own. And this is where you come in – and from the moment he realizes his feelings for you are more than a simple attraction, he dives in head-first.

He decides he'll approach everything with you in a way as opposite from his previous marriage as possible – he's all grand, romantic gestures, always showing up with a bouquet of flowers in hand and just the slightest pink tint on his scarred cheeks.

The grand, romantic gestures are, of course, merely things he’s seen in rom-coms; the women always look happy when the love interest swoops in with flowers and gifts and pretty clothing, the beaming smile and large hug the man gets as a reward seeming very, very appealing to Enji, despite his rigid exterior.

(Just the thought of you hugging him has his heart racing – it’s something so intimate, so entirely new that it makes every nerve in his body stand on edge, a shiver running up his spine as he imagines the way your body would feel pressed against his, how you’d sigh and sink further against him, how you’d squeeze him and god, the view he’d get when he looks down to see your body pressed so tightly against him that not even a breath of air could separate you -)

He’s scouring through women’s magazines, burying his nose in the glossy pages and searching for ideas and clues as to what women enjoy as courting gifts.

(He has to scoff under his breath every time he sees a new dieting tip or regiment, internally frowning and worrying that you’re seeing these ads and potentially obsessing over your weight. The last thing he’d want is for you to be unhappy with your body – certainly not when he’s so very happy with it. Not to mention the nutritionally heinous foods the magazine recommends – he’d sooner have you eat raw paper than follow this ludicrous advice.)

He’s even caving and very, very awkwardly asking his female sidekicks and employees at his agency about their tips on how to seduce a woman. He struggles to make eye contact with them when he asks, his imposing figure almost reminding them of a shy, nervous teenage boy with the way he’s so earnest about his question, his eyes lighting up when they mention an idea he hasn’t tried yet, pressing them for details and specifics and you must tell me what to say to her – how does one follow up gifting a puppy?

It would be sweet, really, how devoted he is to making sure that you’re absolutely spoiled, that you get a whole variety of lavish gifts designed to sweep you off your feet. It would be wonderful, really, except that Enji has never understood the concept of being too much – which is how everything will start to feel very, very early on in this process.

It was nice at first to receive a fresh bouquet of roses every morning at your desk with a handwritten card attached. (Written in impeccable handwriting, the cursive letters looping and elegant as they spell out short, simple, sweet messages signed with a capital E at the bottom, reading please make sure to eat enough today and that skirt looks lovely on you.)

It was nice at first, but after the second week of daily bouquets and even a few finding their way to the doorstep of your apartment, the sight of the pretty red flowers makes a sinking feeling swirl in your gut.

(Enji notices this, dismayed and frustrated by your lack of a positive response, and decides to double down and just gift you bigger flowers, because maybe your lack of joy at receiving the bouquets is because they aren’t big enough, aren’t grandiose enough, aren’t good enough.)

It was nice to get the cute, small stuffed bunny on your desk one morning, and you’d even grown so fond of the little thing that you perched it on the edge of your desk, assuming it was a one-time gift. But it wasn’t – the stuffed animals kept coming, getting bigger and more detailed and much, much more expensive, you’re sure.

(Enji is careful to remove each and every price tag on every gift he sends you, simply because he doesn’t want you to feel that you owe him financially, nor does he want you to be swayed into accepting him as your partner by mere economic standing – that’s an asset that you’ll come to know, of course, but he’d rather lure you in via more traditional ways. It doesn’t exactly stay secret, though, because once the necklace with a delicate array of at least five diamonds in it arrives at your front door, your secret admirer’s wealth becomes very, very difficult to hide.)

He’s gifting you jewelry with more precious jewels and gold and silver than you could possibly wear, and outfitting your closet with all kinds of dresses and skirts out of materials and cuts you could never hope to afford for yourself.

(And, of course, they’re all tailored to fit you perfectly – how Enji managed to get your exact sizes is still a question that haunts you, one that makes you scared to upon the nicely wrapped boxes that you find in excess outside your front door.)

It’s all just too damn much – Enji is suffocating with his attempts to woo you, his every gift and gesture leaving you feeling uncomfortable. What he’s trying to do is very, very obvious – and it feels wrong. He’s the number one hero, a busy man with much more important things to be doing – so why is he going after you? And why with such ferocity?

His forwardness will scare you off, driving you to avoid him and grow suspicious of his motives, and Enji does not like this development. This wasn’t supposed to happen – you’re supposed to want him, to be seduced by all of his efforts, to be swept off your feet and swooned by his gifts and words (delivered with the grace of a garbage truck, of course, but the sentiment is there – even if looking at your pretty face distracts him, all the words leaving his head and making him stand there gaping like a fool).

Enji doesn’t like it, and so he presses harder, stepping up the frequency and volume of his gifts, only effectively pushing you further and further away from him as you grow more uneased and unsettled. And if you were to confront him about it?

Well, this is where his controlling tendencies come into play – denying who he naturally is can only last for so long, and despite being a man with superb self-restraint, the moment that Enji feels you’re slipping from his fingers he’s morphing back into the man that commands your every move.

Suddenly he’s no longer presenting you with the newest shampoo you’ve been talking about (it’s salon grade, the best stuff out there, and much too expensive, but not for Enji – nothing is too expensive for him when it’s for you) but rather letting this expression wash over his face, one that you’ve never seen before.

It’s cold, remarkably so; his lips are pressed tightly together, his brows perfectly straight, those eyes lifeless as he tells you to stop fighting, go inside and change into the green dress I gave you last week. We’re going for dinner, and you’ll order the house salad and a slice of chocolate cake for dessert. Do you understand me?

It’s weird and unexpected and scary, and it’ll have you immediately stuttering out a yes and scurrying inside, too frightened to disobey. And really, while Enji winces every time he does this, eventually he finds himself trying to justify it as simply ensuring your relationship will last.

Obviously it’s not good that he has to force you into these small, minor, inconsequential things (like going on a date with him or letting him accompany you home afterwards), but this is different from with Rei – you want this, right? You’re just too shy to tell him how flattered you are about all the attention he’s giving you.

You’re just playing coy, acting on your age-old feminine instincts to make men chase after you, to be demure and make your partner work for your affection and love. And eventually, Enji will convince himself that this is different, he’s wooing you and getting you into a relationship with him willingly – you want him.

You practically love him already – things are going well. They’re successful.

They have to be.

And so, while Enji doesn’t mean to be controlling, the end results is that although he plays the nice guy that spoils you and gives you anything your heart desires, at the end of the day he is the one in charge, and he is the one dictating your relationship.

And really, what can you do to stop him? He’s strong, both physically and with the general population – one word from him and you’d be hunted for like a madman, ostracized from the community, brought back to him like a pup to its owner.

You belong with him, and it’s his job to make you see that – even if you want to remain blind.

Possessive

Enji Todoroki doesn’t share. Once he decides that he wants you, you become unequivocally his.

Sure, he wants to do things a bit differently with you and get you to harbor more loving feelings towards him, but from the moment his infatuation forms you don’t really have a choice in the matter.

You can pretend like you do, if it makes you feel better (and it will, because at least you can pretend that you have even an ounce of control in the relationship, that you aren’t just some adorable little thing he’s decided he wants hanging off his arm and warming his bed), but at the end of the day you’re subject to Enji’s whims.

And although Enji lets you harbor this fantasy of your relationship being truly consensual, the moment something occurs that threatens it, his true colors are shown. Namely, when he thinks your attention is veering away from him, his jealousy and anger become difficult to keep in check, his quirk acting up and letting off small sparks and flames all along his body. His fists clench and his jaw tightens when he sees another man around you, and although he tries to rationalize that the man likely doesn’t want anything to do with you, just simply being in your presence is enough to make Enji suspicious.

Even if the man isn’t talking to you or acknowledging you in any way, he’s anxious – he’s scared that something about this man will attract you, that you’ll somehow find him better than Enji.

Maybe the man is friendlier – Enji’s aware that he isn’t exactly the most approachable person on the planet.

Maybe he's funnier – Enji knows he can’t crack a joke to save his life.

Maybe he’s a better conversationalist – less formalities and awkwardness, able to get you laughing so hard you snort.

It makes Enji’s skin crawl, his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s fisting his hands, and before long he will intervene. He’ll grab you as gently as he can on the elbow, guiding you carefully but quickly away to the other side of the room and physically maneuvering so that his body is blocking your sight of the man – and more importantly, blocking his sight of you.

He’ll try to talk with you, trying to distract you and get your mind off of the other man, all in an effort to get your attention back on him. He’s reminding you that you have him, that you don’t need some other man, that you already have one who’s capable of providing for you and caring for you as you deserve.

Frankly, he discovers just how deeply his feelings for you run in a situation where jealousy gets the best of him – you’d been approached at a small gathering by a man from another agency who was clearly hitting on you. He was leaning in close, smiling with a smarmy smirk and nursing on his cocktail like a lifeline.

Enji had noticed the two of you out of the corner of his eye, and immediately he’d gone stiff. He couldn’t stop staring at the way the man kept getting gradually closer to you, how he kept leaning in further, how his hand slid from his pocket to your shoulder, then your arm, down to your hand and oh, oh god, it looks like he’s bringing it down to your waist –

Enji had been by your side in mere moments, his gaze card and harsh as he’d stepped in front of you, making some poorly toned excuse about needing to speak with you for a moment, before unceremoniously dragging you away from the stupefied man.

From that day, Enji absolutely refuses to allow anyone close to you. And really, can he be blamed? After all, he fell for you, so why wouldn’t anyone else? You’re beautiful and caring, smart and dignified, and if he can see your potential as a lovely, perfect little wife, surely others can too.

And so, Enji ramps up his controlling tendencies the more he’s presented with situations where the green-eyed monster accompanies him. And this control takes its main form through financials – that is, while Enji originally didn’t want to attract you to him via his material wealth, he decides it’s a necessary evil in order to have you staying by his side only.

He starts ‘forgetting’ to peel off the price tags of the gifts he gives you, pretending not to notice how your eyes practically bug out of your head when you unbox the pink pendant he’d bought for you.

He starts inviting you out for lunches and dinners more often, ordering for you and choosing the most expensive items off the menu despite your numerous pleas that you’ll opt for something – anything – cheaper.

(It’s frustrating, too, because as angry as you want to be at him for ordering for you, he always chooses something you end up liking – of course it’s because he’s done extensive research and stalking, finding out your favorite foods and what flavors you dislike, but it all seems like one large, awfully strange coincidence to you.)

Exerting financial control over you keeps you complacent, because the guilt you’ll feel at how much money he’s sinking into you will have you following his every word, even if it his commands are a little strange and off-putting – like spending less time with any male friends (or really any friends for that matter) or slipping the small photograph of him into your purse (it’s weird and you do so hesitantly, making sure the polaroid is at the bottom of the bag – and trying to ignore the way his muscles are oh-so fucking defined in the tight black shirt he’s sporting in the photograph).

It’s all just a big ploy to keep you from running off with some other man – but really, if you somehow did manage to do that, Enji won’t be particularly merciful. He will be cornering the man as he leaves your apartment and he will be holding him by the neck against the cold concrete wall, threatening him to leave you alone or experience the rather unpleasant sensation of burning alive.

It’s not particularly heroic, but Enji doesn’t care – he can’t, not when the threat of you leaving him for another man is very much present and real. It’s too scary, too much for him to handle – it would mean you rejecting him, his second fuck-up in love, and the loss of someone who fits absolutely every one of his desires in a woman.

You’re too perfect for him to lose – so instead, he’ll own you.

Dependent

He will never admit it, but there’s this part of Enji that grows stronger day by day, every time he sees your face, that tells him in the most raw, real way that he absolutely needs you.

He’s essentially lost what he had of his family, and with the sharp uptake in responsibility as the new number one hero, the new symbol of modern peace, Enji finds himself turning to you in his time of need, in his more vulnerable moments.

Because really, though his exterior is tough and jaded, he’s only human – he too needs someone to love, someone to hold and latch onto, and latch he does. You’re his, and he expects you to understand that even if he doesn’t verbalize it.

He cherishes your very existence, each and every thing you do, finding you to be remarkably weak yet remarkably endearing, your inability to defend yourself simultaneously adorable and frustrating. He needs you to realize that you’re his everything; his whole reason for living now, even if he doesn’t give you many clues into this.

He isn’t the best at expressing his emotions, and although the love and desperation he feels for you is constantly overwhelming him, overflowing from his chest and making him dizzy, he doesn’t articulate just how deeply these feelings run.

Of course he’ll tell you how you’re beautiful, or that you’re my responsibility to protect, but he’ll also say significantly less romantic things like how you belong to him, how he's never letting you out that front door, how he’ll never let those disgusting, filthy villains touch something as perfect as you.

He thinks it’s sweet and exactly what you want to hear, but it’s not – it’s scary and strange and weird, but these are your biggest clues as to his dependence on you.He won’t tell you, but his expectations for you are honestly monumentally high; he wants you to be his perfect little wife, everything that Rei wasn’t, and this includes giving you every ounce of his love.

He wants you to be diligently cooking him hearty meals, keeping the house tidy and clean for the two of you, to be massaging his shoulders while he relaxes from a stressful day at work. (Hell, he even wants you to wear cute little aprons, collars with his name stitched onto them, those maternity/breast feeding bras before you’re even pregnant…)

He wants a domestic fantasy with you, and this extends to other, more vulnerable things as well. He expects you to embrace him as he walks through the door everyday returning home, to give him a light peck on the cheek and ask about his day, to let him hug you from behind and kiss your neck as you slave away over the stove.

He never really got the chance to do such loving things with Rei (not that he particularly wanted to), and as a result he honestly feels like he’s having to make up time, that he needs to be taking every single ounce of affection and love you can possibly give him, and he’ll feel no guilt at all.

He won’t outright ask you to cuddle him, but when he sits on the large, overstuffed leather couch and stares at you expectantly, you’ll quickly learn to run over to him and snuggle up into his side, to bury your face into his chest and wrap your arms and legs around him even if his body heat cooks you alive.

He won’t ever explicitly ask you to give him those fluttery, soft morning kisses he’s seen all the time in terrible corny rom-coms he religiously watched for inspiration while trying to court you, but the moment you smile sleepily at him and press a kiss against his lips while you holds you close in the morning glow?

God, it’s in those moments that he wants to give you absolutely everything he has – every part of his body, soul and heart, every single cent he owns, every piece of fame and fortune he’s ever amassed.

Enji just wants to please you, and although he comes off as an odd mix of demanding yet generous, terrifying yet strangely awkward, inside his heart is hammering against his ribcage every time you so much as smile at him, every time you so much as look at him. In the hazy afterglow of a round of passionate morning sex (in which you’ve realized that fighting will get you nowhere – it’ll only earn you an Enji that’s more frantic and desperate to get you moaning and crying out his name), when he latches onto your smaller, exhausted and sweaty body, pressing you as tightly against him as possible, sometimes his demeanor will crack.

He’ll lean down to deeply inhale the scent of your hair, to watch the way your chest rises and falls, and he’ll whisper in the softest of voices that he loves you, you’re the light of his world. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you, but Enji is hellbent on never finding out – after all, there is no chance of escape with him, and he’s sure you’ll learn your place soon.

After all, pretty, submissive girls like you always do.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Enji is, regrettably, terrible at hiding his jealousy.

He’s always been in a constant state of envy, whether it was vying for the top spot in the heroing world against All Might, desiring the perfect offspring in order to have the Todoroki name and himself live on, and countless other examples. He’s prideful and so fucking jealous of everyone around him, and this is only heightened when it comes to you – his possessiveness over you is nothing to sneeze at, and the minute he feels that your attention is threatened, that you could possibly be yearning for another?

He’s wasting no time stepping in, mercilessly shutting down each and every opportunity you could possibly have of being with anyone other than himself.

As much as he’s loathe to admit it, his jealousy and possessiveness stems from a place of insecurity; he’s aware that he’s by no means the perfect partner, and he rationally knows that you could do much, much better than him.

And so, as a sort of panic-induced response, Enji decides that you simply aren’t allowed to interact with any other men – this way, you aren’t presented with the opportunity to even let the feelings form. And he’s diligent with this theory, too – he’s always standing near you, acting as your shadow with watchful, hawk-like eyes trained on your figure.

He’s never been the best at reading people, but he’s able to tell from miles away when someone approaches you with intentions that are less than innocent, and immediately his lips are thinning, his brows furrowing, his entire body temperature raising by five degrees because you’re his, and this piece of scum disguised as a man obviously doesn’t realize this.

He’s your guardian angel in many ways (though really, he takes the guardian portion much too far – even men who have no romantic intentions with you are viewed as potential threats, shooed away with a vengeance that will make them too afraid to even think about you without imagining themselves engulfed in flames), though at times it will make you feel more than a little patronized.

It’s as if he doesn’t trust you – you don’t really have a relationship, at least in your eyes, but you know the number one hero wants something more than friendship with you. And so, you do your best to avoid evoking his anger and wrath by not romantically involving yourself with another man – and yet that’s not enough for Enji.

It can’t be, simply because as pretty and sweet and smart as you may be, Enji will always know better. It’s a controlling tendency and a mildly sexist view, but he thinks of you as his doting, loving housewife-to-be, and it’s the man’s job to make these sorts of decisions.

You’re just too sweet and outgoing for your own good – you’ll get mixed up in all sorts of trouble if you’re not careful, and lucky little you has someone like Enji to watch out for you and make sure your pretty head has nothing to worry about. And so, Enji sticks to you like glue, warding off potential suitors with grueling stares and a presence and reputation too strong to ignore.

Enji’s day had been long, and one of those days that made him seriously question his abilities as a hero. A villain had managed to trick him, and although Enji had of course eventually arrested the perpetrator, his deception had led to a lot of wasted time and more damage to surrounding buildings than was acceptable.

His head was pounding, his body still feeling overly hot from all of the fighting, and though not normal, he’d decided he was done for the day and left the rest of the agency’s calls to his sidekicks. Leaving early had felt almost freeing in a way, the world looking a bit different with all this extra time – walking down the sidewalk, Enji scanned the windows of each shop he passed.

As per usual, you’d been on his mind all day – flashes of your face sitting just behind his eyelids, your name just a hair away on his tongue, the feeling of your phantom touch sending shivers down his spine. It was irritating, distracting, heavenly, and with each window he passed, he kept an eye out for anything you might like.

He’d gotten you a pretty tea cup set yesterday, and although you’d been hesitant and visibly uncomfortable at receiving such a gift (the set was very, very obviously expensive, the marbled china too perfect and pristine to have costed anything less than a year’s worth of your salary), Enji was eager to gift you something that would be received better today.

Streets passed by, nothing quite suiting his vision for what you deserved – he’d need something more subtle today, something simple and sweet and something he knows you like – The confectionary is small, with swirling black letters over a baby pink banner spelling out the name of the store. The windows are lined with all sorts of chocolates and candies, all wrapped up in pretty, ornate packaging that makes Enji immediately pick up his pace, practically storming into the small shop.

It smells like vanilla and sugar as the door shuts behind him, and although it makes him wince, he knows you’d love it. Shelves nearly as tall as him line the shop in narrow rows, displaying all sorts of sweets that he’s never heard of before – caramels, gumdrops, chocolates, lollipops, anything and everything under the sun.

He’s only been in the store for roughly five minutes, staring at a collection of truffles with furrowed brows and a downward curl of his lip when he hears a small laugh over the gentle, happy classical music playing quietly over the speakers. Immediately he’s perking up – the laugh sounds familiar; the lilt of it, the tonality, the soft intake of breath right after it stops.

His lips part, eyes going wide, and before he can even really control himself he’s rushing towards the source of the noise, his entire face growing warm when he sees you – you’re at the register, a few candies sitting on the wooden slab, your purse in hand as you fish for presumably your wallet.

You look gorgeous today – you’re wearing a shirt he’s never seen before and your favorite pair of jeans (the ones that make your ass look so, so very perfect – perfect to squeeze at, to grope and touch and smack and press himself against…), and although he’s briefly disappointed that you aren’t wearing an item of clothing that he’d gifted you, he notices the clerk all too soon.

The clerk – Hyoshi, his nametag says – is smiling at you. He’s all teeth, a grin that makes the hairs on the back of Enji’s neck stand up, his nostrils flaring because you’d been laughing, and it must be this man’s doing. This man, who’s visibly weak even under the ridiculous confectionary uniform he’s sporting – arms that couldn’t hope to lift even a fraction of what Enji can, a chest that isn’t ruggedly defined like the hero’s, and a stature that’s frankly pathetic compared to the frame of the redheaded man behind you.

Enji’s angry, and as the man opens his mouth to presumably say something else (potentially something that’ll make you laugh again), his words die on his tongue as he glances behind you to see the behemoth of a man who’s quite literally acting as your shadow.

His eyes widen and immediately he’s stuttering out a w-welcome in, Endeavor! At that, your shoulders go stiff, your mouth parting into an adorable little ‘o’ that Enji can practically see in his head, and you slowly turn around.

Oh, hello Endeavor, aren’t you normally on patrol right now?

Enji’s jaw works, and although a small part of him is pleasantly surprised that you’d remembered his patrol shift, your words only serve to further frustrate him. You knew it was his time on the clock – and yet, you’d still ventured out into the heart of downtown, completely on your own, defenseless except for the measly, very sad pepper spray you keep in that worn purse of yours – both of which he keeps pleading with you to let him replace.

(He’ll get you new pepper spray and a taser and a pocketknife, just because he knows how dangerous these streets can be, and with your pretty face and your pretty body he’s sure villains would be lining out the door to get a taste of you. And of course, the new bag – he’s bought you plenty, in a wide variety of styles and colors, each gift getting more and more desperate to be the one you finally deem as being good enough to use, but alas.)

Enji doesn’t even bother with a greeting, instead stepping up to the counter, slamming down his credit card and stepping in front of you. I’ll be paying for her sweets. His voice is cold, firm, and sends the clerk into a scurry to process the transaction, meanwhile you’re staring in mild shock from behind the hero.

Of course you’re not surprised – how can you be, when he insists on spoiling you in every possible way? And yet the raw animosity he’s radiating right now can’t be ignored – you get the feeling as if you’re somehow in trouble, though you can’t figure out what for. As soon as the card reader beeps, Enji’s scooping up the card and your sweets, his thick fingers wrapping around your wrist just barely too tightly and marching out the door, telling the clerk over his shoulder to keep the receipt.

It takes every bone in his body to not turn back around and swing at the man behind the counter, his eyes shutting tightly in concentration as he tells himself that it’s not worth it, the media will find out, your reputation will be damaged. But as his eyes peel open and he realizes the way you’re squirming in his grip, he only sighs and releases you, those teal eyes of his appraising you with a frown.

You’re feeling guilty again, unsure of yourself as you gently rub your wrist, and for a moment Enji feels regret – did he hurt you? He hadn’t meant to, he’d just been angry and it was already hard enough to not harm the man who’d made you laugh, and surely you’d understand that he didn’t mean to –

You break the silence before he can voice his concerns, clearing your throat and thanking him in a meek voice. Enji merely nods, a small grunt your only response as he begins walking again, your sweets – and your purse – firmly in his hands, just so that you won’t have to carry them.

When you don’t immediately follow him, Enji pauses, looking back over his shoulder with a brow cocked.

What? Follow me – we have dinner reservations this evening, at that new seafood restaurant by the harbor. Fuyumi tells me it’s quite good; order the crab legs and the caviar.

There’s no room for disagreement in his tone, and for a moment you just blankly gape at him, the situation too strange for you to really process.

But all too soon his eyes are narrowing, and you’re practically tripping over your feet to follow him, keeping your gaze cast downwards as Enji’s hand rests on the small of your back, guiding you even though there’s not a civilian in sight on the desolated sidewalk he leads you down.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Honestly, Enji is complicated as a yandere; there’s a part of him that knows that there are aspects of his relationship with you that mirror that of his previous marriage. He knows that although you may not be treated as terribly (and that you have more purpose to him than simply an incubator), you’re still trapped, essentially a slave to his will.

And yet, as time passes and his dependence on you grows stronger, he can’t help but justify his actions, deciding that yes, you may be stuck with him, but at least he spoils you rotten with your favorite foods, expensive clothing and jewels, an unlimited supply for each and every hobby you may have. He may have you trapped between a rock and a hard place in terms of leaving him, but at least he genuinely loves you - he aches to spend time with you, to hold you in his arms, to feel your heartbeat against his ear, your lips against his, your body writhing below his.

He’s convinced himself that this time is different, that you’re different, and as such he eventually decides that it’s really in both your best interests to just relocate you, to get you officially by his side. It’s really paranoia that drives this decision – he’s a working hero and a man with many, many enemies, and so it’s really the only option that keeps you safe.

Stealing you away into his private home – he’s the sole inhabitant, aside from a cleaner or two, since moving out of the Todoroki household – is the best option for a multitude of different reasons. You’re safer this way – the state-of-the-art security systems he’s installed around the estate are the best money can pay for, able to detect intruders and any suspicious activity in the blink of an eye. Enemies don’t have much of a chance of getting inside, and even if they had managed to, Enji will be right there to burn them to a crisp for even daring to get close to his beloved.

And even aside from outside threats, keeping you trapped at home will allow him to keep an eye on you and make sure that you don’t accidentally hurt yourself – you’re ridiculously clumsy to him, your every action having him hold his breath slightly in anticipation, in fear that you’ll somehow trip or fall or bruise your pretty skin. Plus, this way he’ll know that you’re eating healthily and in the right quantities, that you’re getting proper exercise, that you’re relaxing as you should, that you’re spending adequate amounts of time in the interior courtyard he’d prepared in preparation for you.

(It’s beautiful, as loathe as you are to admit it – all kinds of flowers bloom along the walkways, bamboo and tall grasses and trees growing in neat lines and providing shade for the flowerbeds on hot summer days. There’s even a small stream flowing through it, the gentle trickling noise almost enough to cancel out the painful silence that exists between you and Enji when he decides to join you for your scheduled garden time in the afternoons – uninvited, as always, and yet still unable to sense how desperately you wish you’d get these times alone to yourself.)

Aside from your safety, keeping you in his home helps feeds into his domestic fantasies of the two of you – you’re so very precious to him, and from nearly the beginning of his obsession with you, he’s always viewed you as the perfect wife – specifically, the perfect housewife.

He’s a traditional man, believing in traditional gender roles, and although he doesn’t view you as being less-than based upon your status as a woman, he does expect certain things from you. He’s the breadwinner, the strong, capable one who provides you with a roof over your head, food, and any gift under the sun the moment you make even the slightest inclination of wanting it.

And in return, you’re to be his caring, nurturing wife – the one who keeps the house neat and tidy, a room dedicated to only cleaning supplies that you get always stay stocked and ready for you, should you become inspired and wish to fulfill this domestic fantasy of his. The cleaning products are all diluted down to a level that wouldn’t be dangerous if you were to ingest them – you’d get sick, surely, but it’s nothing a home-trip from a doctor who’s been sworn to secrecy can’t handle.

There’s also, unfortunately, a drawer within the room that a particularly bored you had one day opened only to immediately slam it shut. Dozens of cleaning outfits sat neatly folded in the drawer, the black and white getups looking much too tight and much too short. A few weeks later you’d returned to the drawer, bored out of your mind while Enji was away at work, peeling one out with careful and trembling fingers. And of course, to no one’s surprise, the outfit fit like a fucking glove – hugging your curves and accentuating them, the skirt full and flouncy and very easy to flip up, the bustline practically choking your breasts with how tightly the black cotton pressed them together. You’d changed out of it shortly after, the rather disturbing and shameful fleeting question of whether this was the type of thing Enji liked making you too disgusted, guilty, and bashful to really consider.

In his idealized domestic world, you’d cook for him, too, but it takes a very long time for him to trust you enough to not purposefully burn or cut yourself in the kitchen. He has daydreams about coming home from a hectic work day to see you standing over the stove in a cute apron, humming some song and lighting up when you hear the door open and close, his announcement of being home making you practically bounce on your heels.

He wants to have you cook for him, to see you slave in the kitchen putting every ounce of your concentration and time into making him a meal you know he’ll enjoy, but that fantasy has to wait for the time being – just until he thinks you’ve finally lost that rebellious streak of yours, just until you finally come to realize that you belong by Enji’s side.

And so, in the meantime he’ll have you make him small things that hold little potential for you to hurt yourself with – simple sandwiches with pre-sliced ingredients, so that you won’t cut yourself chopping tomatoes or slicing bread. He'll have you prepare a sandwich for him and one for yourself, too, ordering you to sit down at the dining table with him and share a meal – though the conversation is hard to come by, and each attempt he makes at starting it is only met with single word answers from you.

(Another domestic fantasy he harbors but would never tell you about is to have you sitting with him at the table, looking at him with those pretty eyes and your voice dropping to a sultry volume, your chopsticks bringing the food you diligently and loving prepared for him up to his lips, your tone teasing as you tell him to open wide! He’d keep eye contact the whole time he chews, never once breaking it as he tells you in that low, gruff voice of his that it’s perfectly done, the seasoning is impeccable. He wants you to be bashful, to smile and hide it with your hand, your lashes fluttering as you glance at him then back to the food again, too shy to say much but your body language showing just how much his praise effects you, just how good it feels to be the center of his attention, the apple of his eye, his absolute everything.)

He wants you to be his sweet housewife, and although he won’t force you into any of the work, it’s extremely obvious what he wants of you – he’s always telling you about when you get adjusted, how you’ll be more open to fulfilling your role.

When you’re more adjusted, you’ll be happy to iron his clothes; perhaps you’ll spritz a bit of the perfume he buys you onto his shirts, just as a reminder of you during his long days.

(As if he needs a reminder – certainly not, when you’re on his mind nearly every minute of the day.)

When you’re more adjusted, you’ll be pleased to see the positive pregnancy test in your trembling hands, your voice riddled with joy as you announce the good news to him, watching him drop the phone and keys in his hand and instead hoist you into the air, spinning you with a grin on his face so bright it nearly blinds you, concluded with a passionate kiss and a few tears on his cheeks because he just can’t fucking wait to have you as the mother of his child.

It’s all this talk of ‘when this’ and ‘when that’, but the strange thing about Enji as a captor is that he’s incredibly patient with seeing these fantasies come to fruition – sure, he may be forcing you into being a housewife just as he did with Rei, but this is different – you get a choice about some of it, unlike her. You don’t have to do the dishes, but you can if you’d like. You don’t have to bear his children, but you can if you’d like.

(And frankly, it’ll be hard not to – once your need for human contact and your strange, mixed feelings for him grow, you’ll eventually give into his requests for intimacy, and once the floodgates are open, you will end up pregnant from the sheer frequency and volume at which he pumps you full of his cum.)

All that being said, life as Enji’s captive will honestly not be too terrible – he’s still following you around the house like a shadow, but he’ll let you sleep in your own bed at the start, let you have your own bedroom and bathroom, and he won’t even force you into spending time with him at the beginning.

Because really, as tortuous and painful as keeping you away from him is, he repeats the mantra over and over in his head that eventually it’ll be worth it – eventually you’ll see things his way, and eventually you’ll come to see just how deeply his feelings for you run. You’ll realize that he’s only ever loved you, that he cares for you more than any other man possibly could, that he only has your best interests at heart – that’s why he always swung by your apartment at the end of his patrols, peering in at you through your windows, just to make sure you were safe and sound.

That’s why he kidnapped you, to ensure your safety and keep you in the arms of the only man truly capable of providing for you, just as you deserve.

That’s why he’ll never let you escape him, no matter how you beg and plead for your freedom – you don’t understand the outside world like he does. You think you do, but each villain he arrests is a nail in the coffin of your freedom – you have no fucking clue how dangerous the world is, and Enji isn’t hesitant to remind you of this.

You’re unhappy with him? Well, your options are here, in his warm house where he’s willing to give you every ounce of his attention, love, and touch, or out in the big, scary world where women like you are easy targets for men who love destroying easy targets.

So really, you’re in the best hands with Enji – he knows how to take care of you, and he’ll spoil you with every possible treasure you could want. What’s not to be happy about?

PUNISHMENTS:

As a general rule, Enji doesn’t ‘do’ punishments. Because he views his relationship with you as his second try at finding a companion, there is no part of him that actively desires to hurt you. He loves you, in some sick, twisted way that’s much too obsessive and desperate to ever be considered healthy, but it’s still love nonetheless.

And as such, Enji does genuinely want your relationship to be as wholesome and sweet as possible; he wants you to want him, to actively choose to spend your time with him, to want to be in his presence every moment of every day. He wants everything to be as perfect as possible – the idealized life, a life where he’s the number one hero coming home to his lovely wife who cherishes him and he cherishes in return.

And so, when you do something that doesn’t quite line up with this fantasy, Enji is understandably upset. Why can’t you just accept that this is your reality now? Why do you insist on fighting him, even when you know you won’t win? How could you?

He’s Enji Todoroki, Endeavor the Flame Hero, and you’re just you. You’re pretty, of course, and smart and sweet and caring, but you’re still just you. There’s nothing you can do against someone like him – which is why Enji is able to excuse your poor behavior most of the time.

He understands; it’s difficult to accept that you’re weak and powerless, and he understands that when you lash out and act out, you’re just expressing frustration and fear at being taken care of so wholly and completely by someone so much stronger than you. It must be scary, after all – Enji can be so intimidating and he knows it, so he’ll try his absolute best to calm down anytime his anger starts to flare.

The last thing he wants to do is harm you, and he wants everything in your relationship to be as different as possible from that with Rei – and hurting you in any way would too closely resemble his previous marriage, ruining the beautiful illusion he can live under with you.

And so, most of the time Enji is able to grit his teeth and shut his eyes, letting the anger subside by telling himself about all the wonderful things about you – things that always get him feeling calmer, that make the buzzing sensation in his head and the suffocating feeling of anger dissipate. Nine times out of ten, he’s able to calm himself down this way – and if that’s not enough, normally exiting the room and getting a breath of fresh air is enough. He’ll tell himself that he absolutely cannot fall into the same habits he did with Rei – you’re different, you’re special, and he’ll calm himself down as often as he needs to in order to avoid being seen by you as the big, scary man who will hurt you if you disobey him.

Thus, getting Enji angry enough to the point where he can’t simply calm himself down is actually quite difficult – generally, this involves you hurting yourself. Most other things he can twist into seeming not so bad, rather just being you not having adjusted to life as his woman quite yet. He can write off your escape attempts as you still clinging to this ludicrous sense of independence you seem so hellbent on keeping.

Attempts to harm him can be discarded as your misplaced sense of anger at your situation, because although in your heart of hearts he’s sure you’re happy to be in your natural familial setting (as the wife of a strong, capable man of course), you’ve confused yourself by trying to reject something that’s just so right.

Of course these events don’t make him happy, but they’re able to be disregarded – but when your blood is drawn by your own accord, even Enji can’t pretend this is something else. This is you purposefully trying to injure yourself, purposefully trying to show him that you aren’t happy, that you don’t want this – an idea that makes him panic, that sends his fists clenching, that gets him pacing and his mind racing as he tries to figure out how to set you straight without harming you. And so, Enji eventually decides that after he cleans up your injury, rather than simply hitting you

and physically showing you that he won’t stand for this sort of misbehavior, he has to be more restrictive with you. He won’t be so lenient for the days following your bad behavior – you won’t be so spoiled, your rights won’t be so freely handed to you.

You must understand that Enji is charge, and that he’s being generous and loving and kind by allowing you such free reign around your shared home. Really, he doesn’t need to be so generous – and he’ll teach you that an angry Enji is much, much worse than the normal doting, lovesick Enji you’re used to.

Enji is frozen as he opens the front door. He’d come home a bit early from running some errands, the groceries in his hand dropping onto the hardwood floors below him. His jaw is dropped a bit, the sight of your bright red blood staining your forearm making a wave of sickness wash over him.

Who did this?

Who could’ve hurt you like this? There’d been no security alerts while he was gone, and there was absolutely no way that you’d left the interior of this house in the two hours he was gone. In the next breath he’s rushing forward into the kitchen, by your side before you can even blink, paying no mind to the way you gasp and stumble away from him, as if you’re afraid of him.

It makes Enji’s chest ache, but the sight of your blood is too distracting for him to focus on the uncomfortable ache. Instead, he’s thrusting your arm under the kitchen sink, the lukewarm water making you wince ever so slightly as it runs over the wound.

Enji’s brows furrow as he examines your arm; the cuts are long, zigzagging in every direction in a way that looks strange, not like any normal attack pattern he’s seen before. This doesn’t look natural, either – not like a regular scratch, not like you just slipped and fell and had unfortunate luck. No, this looks like something else entirely – like something purposeful, like their appearance marring your pretty skin isn’t accidental in the least. It’s only then that Enji sees the glinting silver fork out of the corner of his eye, sitting on the edge of the counter with a bit of red staining the ends.

Immediately his body is freezing, his grip on your arm squeezing tighter as the gears turn in his mind. You must have…

His jaw flexes as he grinds his teeth, those blue eyes of his slanting over to look at you with such intensity and anger that you physically shrink in on yourself. His grip is too firm for you to pull your arm back, Enji absolutely unwilling to let you run away from this.

Did you do this to yourself?

His voice is surprisingly even, given the look on his face, and immediately you’re shaking your head, your entirely body paralyzed with fear. You’ve never seen Enji look this scary before – or at least not towards you.

Your answer only serves to further anger him, it seems, because soon he’s literally snarling, his face twisted up into this ugly look of rage that’s only heightened by the scar across his eye.

Don’t lie to me, I will always be able to tell when you’re untruthful with me. He pauses, taking a deep breath, his voice just the slightest bit unsteady. Did you do this to yourself?

This time you nod yes, tears prickling at your eyes and starting to spill down your cheeks, and at the sound Enji makes, they only flow faster. He looks like he’s in more pain than you are – his face is red, and a few flames lick up around his shoulders. The heat washes over you, and soon the begs are slipping off your tongue before you can help yourself.

Enji pays you no mind, every ounce of his self-control going towards not slapping you in the face for your blatant stupidity. Soon he’s letting go of your hand, stomping towards the small first aid kit he keeps in the kitchen, entirely silent as he carefully wraps your arm in bandages, not paying your rambling any attention or mind.

As soon as you’re securely bandaged, he leaves the room and you hear the sound of his bedroom door slamming shut reverberating throughout the house.

The rest of the night passes in a blur, with you somehow getting from the floor of the kitchen where you’d laid down and eventually fallen asleep all the way to your bed, with the blankets carefully slotted over your body.

Nothing seems to be amiss the next morning, your footsteps cautious as you approach the bathroom, your brows shooting up when you notice that the counter is completely bare – your toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, and mouthwash are all missing, as are all the expensive lotions and facial scrubs Enji normally keeps in piles for your convenience.

The kitchen is empty, too, you notice – the silverware drawer is completely empty, and there are no cups or mugs of any sort in any of the cupboards. It’s unnerving, and immediately you’re getting goosebumps all over your body, the air feeling prickly and cold, as if there’s something lurking that you don’t know about. Biting your lip, you make your way to the table, gingerly sitting down and trying not to jostle the bandages too much – the bandages that had been changed, you distantly notice.

A few minutes later, Enji joins you in the kitchen, his expression not exactly jovial, but not particularly hostile. He greets you as he normally does, before placing the mug you now notice is in his hand under sink. The sound of rushing water gets your mouth watering, not having realized how thirsty you were until this moment.

Wide eyes watch him turn towards you, making his way to your seated figure with slow, heavy steps that get your heart thudding in his chest. He stops right next to you, before telling you to open your mouth. Hesitantly, you do as he says, jerking slightly when his fingertips – always unnaturally warm – cup your chip and bring the cup up to your lips, the water cold as you’re forced to drink it.

Enji watches with neutral eyes, though you see the corner of his lip curl up slightly as you drink the entire glass, the pacing of the water flow nearly too much and nearly choking you. Soon it’s gone, and Enji uses his thumb to wipe at the corner of your lips.

Since yesterday’s little spectacle has shown me that you can’t be trusted with basic household supplies, let me know if you require another drink, if you’d like to brush your teeth, or if you’d like to wash your hair. You obviously can’t do it alone, so I will be joining you. Now, go lay down on the couch. I need to change your wrappings again.

You’re dumbfounded, watching him keep the mug in his grasp as he heads towards the living room. And though the threat seems too extreme, Enji means it – you only last a few hours before you reluctantly ask for another drink, your throat too dry and sore to go without it.

And that night, when you shamefully ask him for your toothbrush, you’re not particularly pleased to find out that he’ll be the one brushing your teeth, using his very own toothbrush to get the job done, just to make sure you don’t even think about trying to choke yourself with the brush.

(And when you finally have to shower, well, Enji’s face turns bright red when you ask, rushing to his feet much too quickly, grasping your hand and practically pulling you to the bathroom before applying all sorts of soaps and scents to the bath he draws for you. His breath is hitched as he turns around so you can change in privacy, but don’t be surprised to see him sneaking glances at your bare body beneath the water’s bubbly surface. Don’t be surprised when later that night you hear a suspiciously rhythmic thumping sound and muffled groans through the wall that your bedrooms share, the faintest wet, squelching noise accompanying them.)

And, roughly a week later when you wake up to the cups and mugs back in the cupboard and your shampoo back in the shower, you’ll decide against hurting yourself anytime soon. It’s not worth it – not if that’s how you’ll be treated; forced to ask permission for your basic needs.

And Enji couldn’t be more pleased – now you’ll think twice about using that fork again, or anything else for that matter.

(And he can still force you into using his toothbrush – under the guise of furthering your bond and intimacy, of course. And because he’ll use it after you, savoring the feeling of the bristles against his tongue like some sort of drug.)

OVERALL DANGER:

7/10

Enji isn’t necessarily dangerous, but rather inevitable.

He’s a determined man, driven by motivation for his goals, no matter the methods he uses to get there. And once he sets his sights on you, deciding that he wants you, that he loves you, you’re certainly no different – he will have you, and there’s not a single thing you can do about it. He’s a force to be reckoned with, and really, what sway do you have?

He’s a professional hero, known in the public sphere responsible for saving more lives than you could ever hope to, and who are you? You’re just a pretty face, a woman who happened to have the exact set of traits and physical appearance that Enji finds desirable – you have no real way to combat him, and who would believe you, anyway? Enji is the new symbol of peace – as far as the Commission is concerned, he can have whatever the hell he wants, and if that one thing is some civilian, then you can kiss your freedom goodbye.

But really, all things considered, Enji isn’t too terrible – he’s trying desperately to right his wrongs, to love you in a way that prioritizes your happiness and is just better, and although you’re certainly not happy being trapped by his side, he can at least pretend like this is better.

He wants you to be his pretty little thing, to be his housewife and treat him like your devoted, loving husband. He wants you to greet him with a kiss on the lips when he comes home from work, helping him out of his jacket and asking about his day, then lead him into the clean kitchen where you’ve got dinner waiting for him, then join him in the shower and then the bed, letting his hands wander to where they please, then fall asleep on his chest, letting him feel like he’s protecting you even in his sleep.

Is that really so much to ask for? Enji thinks not – besides, isn’t that the dream for you?

All you have to do is let him take care of you, to spoil you with flowers and chocolates and jewelry and all sorts of things that make women swoon. You’ll be spoiled rotten, treated like a goddess, and all you have to do is let Enji make all the decisions for you, to let him take control of your life and your future – it’s better this way, he promises.

This way, you’ll be properly cared for, kept safe and secure and comfortable by his side. You may not see it yet, but Enji is sure this is really what you want – you’ll come around eventually, he’s sure of it.

And if you don’t? Well, at least he’s not a monster, right?

#yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere enji todoroki #yandere endeavor #_lee's profiles #_enji todoroki #_bnha #endeavor x reader #enji todoroki x reader

942 notes · View notes

chuunai · 8 months ago

Note

Hi there! I hope you're having a good day 💗💗. If possible, could you please do how the Bsd men would react to having a popular singer s/o? They could be like Robin from Hsr. If you don't know her, that's fine!

I believe Chuuya would buy your albums as soon as they're released and get VIP seats every single time. He would make sure to attend your concerts, no matter what.

Dazai would be like this:

chuuya ! buys VIP tickets the moment they come out. he doesn’t care you said he can get a free seat, the money goes to support you and your career. when the flow of your voice overtakes him, he’s awestruck by everything. the energetic dances, the sheen and shine of your costume and just you.

chuuya ! forces the mafia’s cafeteria to forever keep on loop your music during lunch hours. every single member of can recite both the oath to the organization and every song you’ve ever released. for every day of the week, it’s one of your albums or collaborations with other critically acclaimed musicians.

chuuya ! reminds you to take care of yourself. his girl can’t sing with a sleep-riddled voice, nor can she possibly dance with such sore feet, can she? no, you can’t, and so he smothers his care onto you. making healthy and delicious meals that your nutritionist approves of, running a hot bath filled with strawberry scented bubbles and a plate of fruit nearby. and of course, making honey laden tea for your throat to better aid your vocal cords.

chuuya ! has at least four of his most experienced and talented men guarding you when you’re out in public openly. stalkers and other obsessive fans are a common occurrence in your life, and he always has nightmares about someone kidnapping you or god forbid, killing you. an idol has to be protected, and he doesn’t trust anyone but himself to make sure you’re safe.

chuuya ! helps you make album covers and song lyrics. he’s seen so much in his life, and pouring out his story into a seamless chorus of melodies resonated to him. your album covers are always quite elaborate too—whatever you need, he can get it within a day. all he wants to see is your career flourish and for your bright smile to encourage the ones who are stuck in a limbo, just like how he was before you pulled him out from the abyss.

dazai ! runs your biggest fan account. countless glamorized edits and paragraphs that praise you as the ‘best singer in the world’. sometimes if you allow it, he uploads short videos recording your shared karaoke nights. your devotees can easily tell the different between your and his voices—one perfect and akin to orpheus, and the other screeching about suicide.

dazai ! infamously also doxes your haters on a separate and well hidden account. sadly, he’s one of the main contributors to why your fanbase has a reputation for being vicious and overly aggressive towards people who don’t like you. he thinks they deserve it though. you go through so much darkness, and negative comments don’t need to make you cry even more.

dazai ! keeps a shrine dedicated to you in the corner of the living room. merch, posters, vinyls and more are neatly arranged on shelves and small tables. not even a single speck of dust taints the sacred space. his wallet cries at how thin and malnourished it is, begging for even an ounce of yen, but his heart is full with pure adoration for you.

dazai ! sends akutagawa to your concerts when kunikida doesn’t let him go due to dozens of missing work assignments and orders. if he can’t go in person, he’ll watch from facetime and babble about you into the phone while akutagawa gets the perfect angle and view using rashomon. and when you shout out his name as your muse at the end of the performance, he melts into a pile of mushy lovesick goo.

dazai ! thinks his biggest achievement is being your muse. the thought that he’s the inspiration for some of your biggest songs and lyrics makes him want to be the best boyfriend he can be. he’s no demon prodigy, no suicidal maniac or womanizer. he’s just a heavenly muse destined to help steer you on the right track with his heart in your hands.

Tags:

@twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @starrs20, @little-miss-chaoss, @secretlyagoblin, @broken-spirit101, @briarbabyxo

#bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #aspiring writer #bsd x reader #chuunai #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd tag #bsd fluff #dazai osamu x reader #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu #chuuya nakahara #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bungou stray dogs dazai #bungo stray dogs chuuya #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs dazai

311 notes · View notes

hotvintagepoll · 9 months ago

Text

Propaganda

Francine Everett (Dirtie Girtie from Harlem U.S.A., Paradise in Harlem)— she wasn't known as 'the most beautiful women in harlem' for nothing. star of many an all-black film. not to mention one of her raised eyebrows eviscerates me

Toshia Mori (The Bitter Tea of General Yen, Blondie Johnson)—i think Toshia Mori is a great example of someone who clearly had the makings and charisma of a star & who its easy to imagine thriving in a less white supremacist system than 20s and 30s hollywood. she began acting in silent movies in the late 20s, and in 1932 was selected as a "WAMPAS Baby Star" which was an annual promotion of promising up-and-coming young actresses by the Western Association of Motion Picture Advertisers, becoming the first Asian woman to do so. previous baby stars included Clara Bow, Joan Crawford, and Joan Blondell, and another 1932 honoree was Ginger Rogers. this likely led to her most sizeable role in The Bitter Tea of General Yen (unfortunately a movie with a lot of orientalism going on and white actors in yellowface). she was well received but the studio seemed to lose interest in her career and she largely continued to get bit parts; her last appearance was in a Charlie Chan movie in 1937. she deserved better!!

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Toshia Mori:

Francine Everett:

Harlem beauty with charisma out the wazoo, never had as big of a Hollywood career as she should have because she refused to take demeaning or stereotyped roles.

#toshia mori #francine everett #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 3

178 notes · View notes

cutieeva · 1 month ago

Text

Smile

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫

Female Reader

Warnings : Murders. Violence. Kidnapping. Confinement. Dubious consent. Sexual assault.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

❛ 人食い ❜

It was not (Y/N)'s intention to ensnare the gaze of a demon when she ventured into the hallowed temple however the only person she can blame is herself along her salvation.

"Useless". Her (E/C) eyes watching the fire burn her parent's body seem useless. After all it's a waste of fire if it's used to burn worthless humans. Those humans should rot to stink and even undeserving to be eaten by insects and animals. It deserve to rot only.

A yawn slip her lips that caught the attention of her male bulter Ryujin. He, stand beside her glare displeasingly of her lack of respect and boredom yet could one blame her if it's a waste of time ? Those parents' of her were bound to die sooner or later and to god's gracefulness they died little early. Unexpected too if she add, both perish in slumber together, sleeping beside one another. What a painless death even (Y/N) envy's because it's known to none how her death will be of.

Painful ? Plainless alike her parents ? Or perhaps a murder ? Now, that's an uninteresting way to die because she will not consent to die and if someone does tries, she prays to god her future killer must live in misery their entire life, filled with diseases and sadness yet beg to die or even better by suicide which will show how much was her killer tormented, then that's an happy ending.

Oh, god forbid her to dream of such filthy futures. Now she is alive and young at her prime and free of her parent's strict grip with endless of their wealth. Now, that what she loves about her parents save for their powerful surname beside her name.

"Bless their heart for leaving such wealth". She pray to heaven if it's exist and wipe the tear from her yawn to leave, following her butler and few personal maids. "The will is in my name, is it not ?" After all she is the sole heir and indeed the butler nod. An smile almost bloom that she manage to refrain and pursed her lips to think.

"What should I do ? What should I do ?" It is dawn at this moment how she recalls clearly her lines of tutors strangle her by the meaningless books of education and advise of how to be a good bride, following the usual routine of eating in silence, dressing, learning painting, sleep and the next day like an wooden clock the circle continuous each day. Never in her life from the childhood was she grant with such free time thus having it is, seem unnatural, discomfort within her skin.

Only with the free time, not with the lack of her parent's presence because she could be in luck if she was even granted the glimpse of their faces from their busy live. A wife too busy to serve her husband who, he had busy in counting the papers of yen despite drowning in it.

Funny how they never cared what should had been important, she. (Y/N), their flesh and blood who could have at least cried if not aside from pity she felt for her parents, unfortunately. Nevertheless she spring to the front door. "Let me enjoy the markets of street to my heart's content". Announcing her decision she walk tailing her maids and butler who quite worked like a male nanny to her too. Seeing her from a little baby to this young beautiful woman his heart grew fond of the lonely child unaware she never felt lonely only annoyance.

The market are lit with lights in jolly and the people mingle like bees attracted to shops like flowers for honey. All talking to one another, enjoying themselves and buying things and the shop owners giggling at the yens in their hands.

However all grasp in awe and stare, halting their actions just to see a young lady behind her train of attendant maidens struggled beneath the weight of numerous portmanteaus, boxes, and resplendent trinkets, bespeaking an unparalleled affluence and her in aglow of gold and that lady is (Y/N), smiling in arrogance at the green envy from women and lust from men dripping. How animalistic she laughs, the people can not even hold their facades correct.

No wonder they are beneath her and she above. From today will she be the queen of her own life and none would point finger at her, how could they if they won't even have fingers to point as she will cut it.

Walking to the next store, the owner salivating at her wealth and she smiles.

☯

"Boring". The word made the jewelry owner gulp and sweat hard. "Boring". (Y/N) repeated, touching the edges of the same old glossy gold. "Boring". Rolling her eyes finally her feet walk away, tuning out the female owner's pleads, and boring choices of words.

The radiant sun cast its golden light upon her, illuminating her refined features as she walk from the roof, behind her, the maidens holding few bags of shops and Ryujin hold a parasol above her. "Does after one week, the shops of these streets lose out to sell ?" She question, looking at the mid-aged man.

"Usually not, Miss". He answered and she sigh.

"Pitiful". Only sixty shopping was made today. Not more, a yawn slip her lips, drowning in boring the area she lives in. Covering her yawning mouth by her hand.

"Miss, could you please spare few money ?" Whisper voice of a boy caught her to look down, his foul face with dust and ink along the teared and clearly man's cloth on his tiny body would have melt an heart and pity one's eyes however (Y/N) only stare then at the distorted metal bowl fill with some coins and she look at him again, directed her words to her servant.

"Fifty boxes of food from the restaurant". At once a pair of maiden obeyed her order, within small span of time they hold boxes of food. "Here, your food". In those tiny hands, her servants gave all the food and some put on the dusty ground. "Eat it".

The boy who's eyes watered and lips smile like lit candle in a birthday, staring at so many food while (Y/N) tilt her head, observing. How honest he is. "Thank you". In pure gratitude he said, bowing to the ground and he flinch at her loud laughter.

She scoff then, bend a little, her clear (E/C) eyes stare not at him as if at his soul directly and said. "Thank you ? What do you think I am ? A saint ? Of course not. I do not gave you the loads of food out of the pure heart of kindness. No ! Never". She laughs louder like it's idiotic. "You foolish, foolish boy, it's a debt. I want to see if I gave you this food and you survive then I want you to remember each waking time that the reason of your existence is because of only me. And the debt shall be collected in the future". Harshly she said and the butler did not flinch, the boy did. "Nothing more and nothing less". Her words came to end and she stood straight gracefully, walking glancing back not once.

"What shall I do now, Uncle Ryujin, advise me by your wise vision". The said man sigh.

"Honest or lie". She smiles.

"Lie please. Honests are boring, lies are interesting to unfold". The man cleared his throat.

"Then I recommend some more shopping to other areas—".

"Thus, in honesty you desire me to no more torment my maiden servants feet by roaming the ground and pour money mindlessly ?" She cut him off, wanting to be proven right of her envision.

"True". (Y/N) chuckle. It was easy. That's when her sight caught at an interesting manor. Not big enough to be someone's home nor small enough to be a expensive shop.

"An what ?" She point her finger to the manor and Ryujin glance at it.

"An temple, Miss". He answer.

"An temple ?" He nod at her scepticism and she chuckles. "What temple is it ? Buddhist ? Or ?" The man shake his head to confuse her further.

"The temple is called Eternal Paradise Faith". She moves her hand to continue his explanation of something unheard of. "It's a place where the leader listens to all his followers' troubles and gives them advices from the god's words he hears and a chance to visit the paradise once they die". A mocking smile spread across her lips.

"What an pitiful place. I wonder". She could not even laugh at the thought of such place gathering outside the manor just to see a human as their leader and find peace within the man ? Are they not afraid to be used, fed lies and all ? Is it not like offering one's life to another's hand ? And she can not at all imagine someone offering the control of their lives. It sounds unreal and foolish.

"We should go inside". Ryujin surprise her, a man not tied by any reglious is encouraging peak her curiosity yet she does not desire.

"No". She declines. The suffocating thought of reglious people surround her with good and God seem like an illusion. Good and kind people exist in few numbers thus people pure helping others in name of reglious appear even rare, it's simply impossible.

"However Miss, I reccomend it. For the own good for my old mind peace sake ?" The old man never tour inside the temple as he was so busy at his late master's orders however he wishes to now.

"No". Plainly she decline because what his wish has to do with her. "You may go by yourself". She gave the permission with no reluctant, ignoring the curiosity to at least peek how the temple works. Something belongs to no god.

She turn her heels and about to walk away however merely imagining her boring day of returned to home only to sit in silence at the huge mansion by herself seem very distasteful thus she turn around and "Let us grace your leader with my presence". The aged man's surprise melt to happiness and her gaze hardened, verging on disgust, as she observed the undue influence this temple leader wielded over her normally steadfast butler.

It was few feet walks and they cut the line thus after the person inside would come outside will be their turn. (Y/N) roll her eyes at the silent glares of pleasants. Bad for them, if she has wealth how could she not take advantage of it.

Suddenly a young man with rimmed teary eyes come out and Ryujin nod at his master indicating it's their turn indeed. They were about to enter when she raise her hand in front of Ryujin. "You, will stay outside". The man furrow.

"Why, miss ?"

"Servants do not ask questions to their master's order". And the man silence his thoughts yet the betray of emotions were convey from his eyes. Foolish man, (Y/N) thought, she smile enjoying his discomfort because if she indulge in letting him get more closer to the leader he did not even met before, perhaps the leader will own the power of her butler, not (Y/N).

"You three, come with me". The maidens quietly followed their mistress and she went inside, observing inch of the wealth spent on this temple and finally her sight met rather an unseen pair of iridescent eyes, the owner is sitting on his throne as the leader of the temple she assumes.

With fluid elegance, she knelt to sit alongside her maidens who bowed to him in respect, she care not enough to show and the leader smile upon noticing.

"He is unexpectedly young and handsome". Bit odd to her as leaders usually must been aged or at least appear to be.

"Thus, please express your sorrows for me to help". His smile tender and her eyes soften before her lips quiver.

"My parents vanished from this mortal realm, leaving me, a tender orphan, to navigate the cruel world alone, burdened with their vast fortune. Without a husband's protective guidance, I find myself beset by insolent servants, who dare question my authority. Yet, the true anguish lies not in their impertinence, but in the desolate solitude of my manor, where only my shadow provides constant companionship." Her gaze cast down, voice barely above whisper. "Thus, revered leader, I implore you, guide me toward the haven I so desperately seek, my paradise." She finished sniffing and the maidens' countenances, normally schooled in discretion, betrayed telltale signs of astonishment.

Dōma, the leader notice the difference of expression and smile. "Fear not, for the heavens above—". His act of assure was cut by her loud laughter behind her hand. Growing louder and unladylike. His smile crease a little.

(Y/N) withdrew her hand, and a radiant smile, one that illuminated the very sanctum of his temple, unfolded upon her face—the brightest, most resplendent he had ever beheld within these hallowed walls.

"Are you indeed a divine emissary? Did the heavens not resound you with the Lord's words, 'Foolish mortal! She who sheds tears is the most fortunate and affluent of all'? And still, you dared to dupe me with deceitful words. You false man" She laughed some more and Dōma, who could not help yet smile wider in interest after finding the only woman to see though his lies.

"Why ? Do you not believe in heaven and hell ?" An amusing question he ask and he truly hoped she won't bore him with the same old answer.

"They do—". He sigh. "—in us. Within us and our mind. If believing in something gives us the power to live then why not ? Heaven and hell do exist" He raise his eyebrows, quite not understood her twisted speech.

"Pray tell, what do you imply ?" An eager lace his voice. She tried not to find it distaste.

"I am saying. I do not believe such things I have not seen them yet if people suggest they exist then why not. They exist in us". Simple truth for him yet bitter truth of the human. First time one acknowledge such universal honesty he thought in his decades remain elusive in his lifetime. Good grace, he lived on as a demon, granting him the privilege to see this entertaining lady.

"Moreover, your eyes—". His ears perk at the mention of his treasurous features. "—it's disgusting to see, when the pity is plainly in sight". She rose from her seat, her words tinged with disdain. "Amend your appearance, if you truly wish to fool people". He let out a cherry chuckle.

"Why did you seek me out, knowing full well my deceitful nature ?" So entertaining. He finds difficult to let her slip, her distaste, arrogance, act, all compailing to him. So many amusing changing expression with honest mind. Delicious to taste. His gaze roamed freely over her form, assessing the vitality she possessed.

She observed the action and, curtailing her response, replied "Well, one is aware that a circus features a clown, yet patrons still flock to witness the spectacle. why ? Because it's entertaining watching the clown made a fool of himself". Her accusenery speech did not went past him and his laughter grew errier louder.

"I am a clown in your eyes ?" the word seem distasteful to him for some reason yet his smile remain.

"Well, in one's speech could be distorted in other's view thus, decide yourself". Again, that twisted ridicule of words now becoming irritated. Dōma does not really enjoy becoming the laughter, he likes to laugh not be laughed. A subtle difference.

(Y/N) satisfied with her conversation, walk towards the exit with her maidens.

THUD ! she flinch and look behind and her lips part.

In sight is the wall bore the ghastly image of a maiden's corpse, her once-pure form now a gruesome canvas of blood and suffering, the splatter patterns echoing the grotesque, inky trails of alike a insect's violent demise. And the other maiden, her lips parted to shriek for rescue, was mercilessly struck against the wall, her slender body shattered by the impact, her final breath escaping in a faint whisper.

All by the false man (Y/N) claim. It seems she misjudged that he is not only a false messager of god however also not a human. Her body stay at her roots, watching Dōma's bloodied body knelt near the limp bodies and slowly like an creature his sharp nails snap the head away which she flinch harshly and close her eyes only hearing the crunching, licking noise of eating human flesh.

Silent tears fell down and breath halt alltogether and his eating felt centuries to her when his footsteps come near her, the stink of blood overwhelm her as for the first time she ever smell it. She could feel his body close to her yet not touching and the shadow cast upon her.

"Open your eyes". Tender his voice was and she obey, his smile menacingly wide smeared in the hue of fresh blood and his pair of Iridescent are devoid of any emotion. His beauty unsettling and uncanny.

Tears slide down and for some reason he came closer to lick it. The greasy tongue brush her cheek send shivers her spine and Dōma savour the taste. "Hmm ? Why does tears taste salty ?" Alike a innocent child his nose scrunch and (Y/N) could hardly slip her facade underneath pure disgust.

Dōma chort at the woman's still fiery nature and a overwhelming twist to play game controlled him. "Shall we play a game ?" Because he does not want to kill the toy he got. He tilt his head to closer to her ear and whisper.

"Run and I will see you tonight". As if free of trance she ran outside where her alive butler and maidens standing.

"Let's go". She commanded, not wasting a time to walk fast confusing her servants.

"Why so sudden ? And where are the three maidens ?" (Y/N) close her eyes to erase their death from her memory and a trinkle of guilt chew her inside.

"They decided to dedicate their lives to the leader". Lying is easier than face the truth she caused herself to spiral however she can't change the past thus all she can do is survive against that man-eater.

Upon the first step inside her mansion. She issued a sudden decree "Gather all essential belongings forthwith! We depart immediately to our secondary residence in the countryside". Her voice echoed through the halls as she exclaimed, "Do you comprehend my instructions ?" In perfect synchrony, her servants responded with a unified affirmation, their voices rising in obedient harmony before retrieving to the order.

Ryujin, who stay beside her further confuse at her sudden change of behavior. "Mistress, what change your—". His pause of words came when his eyes met her fearful ones. As said before he watched her grow to a adult and when he swears few of the emotions she ever shown was fear then something extreme occur to that temple. Something that plant fear in her. "I shall also join to hurry". He said, walk away and (Y/N) curl her fingers, determine to live until she dies of natural causes never murder that she did not consent. At least not so young.

☯

(Y/N) watch her mansion, the home she grew up turn smaller and smaller the far her carriage drive away and she drawn the curtains, digging crescent dents on her skin. A mistake she made and the price was to cowardly run away. She shouldn't have step a foot at all, however too late and now, she is the prey of a monster heard in tales to scare children.

"Is there no way to kill the man ?" As in every tale of monster has a weakness, he must have too. Does piercing in his heart kills him ? Or his brain ? She inhale deeply, unsure to solve a puzzle no one taught her to and Ryujin watch it all, choose silence.

☯

Once night prevail the sky. Her butler advise to not further travel in case a accident occur and they are much far from the town they lived and (Y/N) agreed, unsure whether it was the right choice, well she will soon come to know because after resting at a inn, changing dress and sleeping in different rooms.

(Y/N) toss and turn at the vomiting images that seem to not leave her mind at all. Sweat glisten at the moonlight peeking through the curtains when shuffling and slicking noise pass her ears.

In fear her body froze and her eyes close however the noise only grew and grew until.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Mocking knocks quiver her body before the door slide open, that stink of death whiff her nose and few drips on ground startle behind her. The gap of weight got closer and closer until she felt a shadow tower over her head, wet drops fall on her skin yet she remained at the pretense of her sleep.

"Wake up, I can hear your heartbeat faster". In his childish giggle she dare open her eyes, directly meeting death. That monster tower her and few inches away from her face, nose touching and the wet drips are the fresh blood from his mouth. Her heart almost stop. "Aww, looking so cute". His cooing voice provide her no comfort as he laughed more.

She stare at him only and he waits for her beg, cry or pled.

She doesn't. If she is bound to die, she will with dignity.

He likes it thus he remove the blanket from her body and slide beside her, each muscle tense in (Y/N)'s body and his corpse numbness embrace her like a pair of couple sharing one bed.

"You are warm" He savor the feeling and inhale her smell of living flesh. She stopped trembling and he likes that— likes ? Likes ? What does it mean like ? Does he not like killing all ? So why does this passionate him ?

What does it mean he likes it ? Likes what ? And what is like ? To like and be liked ?

Confusion like group of ants crawl in his brain, for the first time he feels like. Not think like or create like. He feels the like of her body in his. Blending into one another.

Dōma buried his face in her side of neck and she close her eyes in disgust. He inhale deeply. He likes it. He likes it. He enjoys it.

His first feeling.

His first emotion ! Dōma's grin spread ear to ear and turn her around and cage her in his hands, looking from above. She is forced to watch his animalistic smile and— pleasure ?

Was not before he devoid of emotions ? Like a doll mimicking human expressions ? Wait a moment, does he unable to—

"You are feeling pleasure from all this ?" Her distasteful clear and he laughs.

"Yes ! Very much. Very, very much". Giggling sound alike screeching noise he stare at her.

"You are inhumane. You are a mistake of nature". Spiteful she said, closing her eyes to appear to die yet her mind is racing with the possibilities of how to survive.

"I am not ! I am what I desired". The smile uneven and eyes fill with bloodlust she did not care open thinking back to their first encounter.

"Would you kill me ?"

"Yes".

"Why ?"

"Because eating you will offer me have emotions". She snap her eyes open, emotions, emotions ! Right, what lack in him was feelings, emotions.

"What made you think I can give you that ?" Dōma tilts his head, watching her unchanged face, more like her lips shaping words.

"I like it when touching you". She inhale at that, almost impulse to push him and ran away however she can not, not far away from the speed she witness yesterday morning.

"Then you do not have to kill me. I can give you that by living more easily". It perk his attention. She can give him emotions ? A being weaker than nature itself is suggesting to give him something nature could not ? What a pitiful sight.

"Believe me. I can". Dōma nod.

"Give me one now". (Y/N) stare into those blank iridescent eyes and lean upward to plant a kiss on his smeared blood lips where he narrowed his eyes in doubt before her tongue part his lips to invade and passionately kiss him, tingle the metallic taste.

Dōma who never had kissed an woman, only ate them for the first time feel pleasure. The sweetness of her tongue circling around his flesh and her hands hold his face so tenderly. It made him feel unutterable emotions.

Giggy slit his stomach and in hunger for more he grasped her fragile form, pulling her closer, their chests entwined, skin grazing skin, as Dōma savored the intoxicating kiss. His mind mushing and ears ringing. Did humans touch one another to feel this ? Is this what they call love ?

The rushing blood of vein, ears ringing and intoxicating mind ? If this is love then he would gladly keep her alive.

(Y/N) in need of air, pushing his unmovable chest and muffled grasp tries to earn his attention which she did finally. "Oh ! Oh ! I forget humans needs to breath". Snickering he about to kiss, she turn her head away.

"I can't give you all at once. However at promise I did give you a feeling did I not ?" He nod his head and (Y/N) bite inside her flesh, relive how she succeed in her gamble. The reason she thought kissing him would make him keep her alive because at his own words.

"I like it when touching you".

It's lust. Simple and plain. A lust from a man for woman's body he finds desirable and he felt just that.

"I will keep you alive then". Dōma smiles wide and (Y/N) slide tears.

☯

She sat alone in the corner of the vast, echoing chamber that Dōma had claimed as their home. Her body lean on the wall, her eyes draft to the inn room they crossed to leave and it took some time for her to discover the shade of the walls were grey not ruby along the bodies of innocent servants among them must be her butler too, the only person she knew. Dōma snatch that away. From her wealth, her life, her butler and the control she had.

The thud of door slamming rip her from the thoughts and his suffocating embrace from the side, his body caging her lungs to breath. Smiling ear to ear like a lover to his love. "Ah, the blissful ignorance of those insignificant mortals, basking in the fleeting solace of pleasure." For someone who does not feel emotions, he have strong opinions on humans and nature.

He indulge in her soft sheltered body with his huge one and spend the time using her like a rag doll than an human.

☯

Each day was the same. Dōma return from his either temple or a place he calls sacred and bask at her presence to his heart's content.

He learnt new emotions. Solace. Pleasure. Warmth.

However she languished in the corner of his chamber, her body a lifeless, listless shell, he began to feel an growing sense of ennui. Her once-enthralling submissiveness had devolved into a dull, soulless existence. She rarely even requested sustenance as if her soul died in that room with those worthless humans.

Dōma's fascination waned, replaced by an urge to discard her, to snuff out the faint flicker of life remaining. Yet, he hesitated, stayed by the doubt : would he ever find another plaything as exquisite, as perfectly broken ?

"Great leader, I beg of you, guide me on the path to paradise, for the sake of my beloved wife's eternal happiness." The human man's who voice he tune out, look to find him tearing as his words dissolving into sorrowful wails. Beside him, his wife sit still, her gentle hand reaching out to pat his shoulder, offering what comfort she could in her final moments.

"She is dying ?" The couple wince and the man nod as if wanting to do the complete opposite : deny. Oh, (Y/N) will also die of aging, if not young by sorrows. He must do something to retrieve the witty self before she dies for him eat her.

While (Y/N) is confined on someone else's power, watch the sun glide to the sky, roaring it's highest power of untouchable from the little crack she discover one day as strangely he never let her out in sun. Suddenly the door opened and she close her eyes to not see the monstrous entity close the distance and hold her tightly. Taking her to his lap and place her chin on his shoulder.

"What do you like the most ?" She open her eyes and turn her head unaware how near their faces was. His eyes study her.

"Flowers". She said. "Jewels, wealth—". Avert her gaze. "—and control".

"So shiny things ?" She furrow, wondering how he come to that conclusion when the differences were stark from one another then again, she glance at him through her lashes, he is unable to understand simple things.

"Yes". Look away to forget the past and believe an illusion she is alive and that's enough for her greedy heart. Uncaring to the man-eater smile, grasping her tighter.

☯

"You are letting me out ?" None to her for how long was she trapped and suddenly when he urge her to be outside at night did her heart got frighten. Was he wants to kill her ? Or trade her to other monsters like him ?

"Yes". Biting back the blooming smile on his lip, he grip her wrist. "A gift for you". Sliding into the bodies of other, they walk where he was leading her when her eyes caught the sight of Ryujin. Alive Ryujin and without a second thought, she bite his hand and run to the opposite direction of her butler's. Her only family.

Closer and closer. Her heart racing, eyes sparkling and smile breaking her facade. Never did one day she thought one person would give her taste of happiness and just as her fingers were about to graze his skin, a sudden yelp escaped her lips. A swift grasp dragged her back, plunging her into the chilling familiarity of his cold embrace. Dōma caught her.

She look back to find Ryujin who she mistook as an other aged man who's expression look nothing alike making her heart drop and face shatter in realization of what a fool she is spiraling into. Was the loneliness snatching her sanity ?

Her heart pounding and mind reeling.

"Smile". The whispered word caressed her ear, prompting her to lift her gaze. The sight that met her eyes would forever be etched in her memory. His usual blank iridescent eyes now shone with a fiery intensity, like stars ignited within their depths. His pale skin was set aflame with a gentle blush, imbuing his features with a tender vulnerability. Her breath halted. He looks like a man in love.

"Smile". He pleads. She notice. "Smile like that again". His voice weaker. "Smile". His finger touch the corner of her lips and tries to stretch that smile that lit his world by pounding his heart. The pure happiness of a emotion he saw craft heat under his skin that he is unable to understand. She looked the most beautiful creature chasing her loved things he ever laid eyes on he believes. He wishes to see her smile.

(Y/N) however does not share the same sentimental and wishes to scream, attracting heads and escape from the man's grip. Yes, she does not care if the humans died in process.

As if read her mind, he mutter. "Do you wish to kill them all ?"

"Would you do it ?"

"Yes". He breath.

"Why ? because you are hungry ?"

"No". He answer, his eyes never wavering. "For you I will do it". And the way he said those craft a feeling in her he would.

"Do not". She does not desire to carry more guilt in her than she has and she turn away to walk when a candle had fallen onto Dōma's arm, its flame burning his skin turning the pale skin to eerie black. Yet, to her astonishment, the wound began to regenerate, healing before her very eyes. He is immortal ? She look away and walk fast. Heart pounding refusing to believe she has to spent her entire life with a monster until her last breath. Controlled, suffocated.

☯

Jewels.

A sea of glittering jewels stretched before her, an dazzling tapestry of gold, diamonds, and emeralds. The room was awash in unimaginable wealth, every inch of floor hidden beneath the staggering array and she felt nothing aside from agitation.

"A gift". Dōma's voice from behind ring her head. Her body sore from the same sitting on his lap and her eyes roll back. "Smile".

"My life has been a tapestry of abundance, every desire fulfilled. There is nothing you can offer me to make me happy". Honestly she said. "Even not jewels". Dōma's smile crease and he hug her stomach tighter to melt within. Oh, how he wish for them to mold together. Always together however that smile is something he can never erase. The shimmer and the breath of laugh took his breath away.

☯

Solid gold bars. Pure gold layed on the ground along dresses she is yet to see. All in line like an real royalty. (Y/N)'s mind ponder how much wealth this monster owns or steal them ?

"A gift to be happy ?" His almost childlike question infuriates him. Disgusting man, how dare he question when he stole her life, ate her people, kept her alive for pleasure and doing at his whim to earn an emotion from her. He had no right to.

"As I have said before. No amount of wealth will have me happy when I had seen all. There is nothing I lack for you you to offer me". Dōma shake his head, the smile wider.

"There must be". She look at him.

"Could you afford to give me ?" He nod hastily.

"Yes, anything". (Y/N) tilts her head, snarling.

"Freedom. Let me go". The demon sank her want in his mind and almost his own head shake his head.

And words flee. "No". He could not do that. He can give anything she desires apart from freeing her life. He owns her life and is being too generous for his own good. He march to her and hold her shoulder in dreadful tight. "You are mine thus you won't be free from me". Each word he clearly utters like imprinting on her skin.

"Yes". Glaring she said. "Then offer me your weakness". Dōma halted, never in imagine did such question invade his mind. She draw closer, closer until their chest touching and hand on his shoulders.

"If you do—". Those (E/C) eyes bore into his. "—then I will laugh". Finished she plead. "Smile as you wish". Dōma's heart that hold no life pound at the image of her beauty.

And confess. "Sunlight. My weakness lies in sunlight". Like a foolish man he said out loud, as men in love are, foolish.

The corner of her lips lift in blooming smile and her eyes twinkle like diamonds against the dark glow, exuding vitality and joy. The breathtaking sight stole his breath, captivating him anew.

And the next moment was him pressed their lips together and hands roam on her body with want. (Y/N) breath cautiously, unable to rip her breath away from him and her stomach turn churn, because she truly do not wish to give him her first, her body. She despite being controlled yet here she is pushed to the door and kissed and touched in her entire body, her tears swell in sorrow.

Finally she turn her head away, to breath air in her lungs and Dōma's thirsty lips ravished her skin, tracing a fiery path from cheek to chin, neck, and collarbone. His hand grasp her breast, fondling it as he please and she wince.

Sweet, all she taste is the sweetest he was ever have privilege to, no flesh could be compared to the pleasure and taste she is bestowning him and the hunger is tearing him apart, wanting more and more. His another hand circle her waist, pulling her inexorably closer, primary urge to claim her his and his finger shifted her kimono off her shoulder, exposing tender skin, with a deep, shaking breath, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his lips searing her skin in a passionate, all-consuming kiss deeply shaking her from her core.

While the sun outside, oblivious to the passionate affair raising little by little that her sight took note of and she clasp her hand on his shoulder, pushing his face into her skin and tried to engulf his entirety. Dōma returns the passion. Wanting to be one with the woman he loves and have her his, for eternal. He decided at the moment she smiled for him. She sealed her life. The golden rays of sun spread far and wide and (Y/N) let his hands rip her kimono, falling with silence on the floor and she stood nude and empty before his eyes that stare at her like staring for the first time, as if falling in love and embedded in his core mmeory.

She inhale breath, for a moment even catch a glimpse of his hand painted in fresh blood following the stench of death however when she blink, the pale hands with neat sharp nails return and his face, curved smile out of happiness, wide and delirious.

Perhaps he went mad, hugging her, feeling her nude to his cloth body and savoring the warmth of her lush skin belong only to him. "I love you". He confess and she met his heated gaze, avert before the grim surface and pull his face to kiss him by her hands on his shoulder and roll their bodies to push him on the door, this time.

The sun has lit the world up to greet morning to earthly creatures and (Y/N) lift her toes and cover his eyes, tilt her head to deepen the kiss and other hand slip past his body and open the door wide to push him with her entire strength she had outside, under the scoring sun.

Dōma, who was astonished, used his speed to escape came too late, the ray has touched his rotton skin, free of shield. It's too late. His countenance twisted in a rictus of pain and stare at the woman he loves betray him, for her freedom.

"This is my gift for you". Her weak legs sink down, watching his demise alike her own people. "Called pain". She utter above a whisper and tears roll down, utter lose and shallow her heart feel, she has no one spared in the world to call her own anyone.

Then her eyes in daze stare at those golds "Well, I can take these and my wealth back". Covering her nude by her cloth, she look away after he turned into nothing and stood to leave.

Language of love she heard the term. Very endearing to hear and yes, his love was nothing less than an unsettling intensity, a suffocating desire to possess. She still however assume he bears the gift offering one.

"Perhaps I bear too". As she did bestowed him her last gift, a emotion called pain wrapped in his death and betray by the one he desired the most.

FIN

𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐨𝐟 ◜◺ 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 ◞◿

#dark romance #female reader #male yandere #x reader #yanderexreader #yandere community #yandere x fem reader #chubby reader #yandere #obsession #yandere x reader #yandere x female reader #yandere demon slayer x reader #yandere demon slayer #demon slayer #dark fanfiction #dark fiction #dōma x reader #yandere dōma x reader

39 notes · View notes